


We Have All The Time In The World

by SoftIceCream



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Erratic behavior, Loneliness, M/M, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-08-25 17:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 98,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16664881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftIceCream/pseuds/SoftIceCream
Summary: Set during season 3. Jim's back in Scranton due to the Stamford branch closing. He finds himself feeling lonelier than ever before, friendless, and attracting attention from people he never thought possible. Jim's not sure what they see in him, because he can't see it for himself. Roy/Jim and Dwight/Jim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, so please leave as much constructive criticism as you can! I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while now, and I figured if I didn't read it myself then no one else would.This fic is also unbeta'ed so I hope it looks okay.

It was a Wednesday morning and Jim was tired. He sat in his car, parked in the empty parking lot of the industrial complex where Dunder Mifflin was located. It was currently only 8:10, making Jim almost an hour early for work. No one else was here, and he himself didn’t want to be there. No, he didn’t want to go into work today because he knew what would await him.

 

A boring desk job he had tried to escape from the year before, to no avail. Instead, Jim had been recently transferred back to the Scranton branch after the Stamford branch folded. The manager there, Josh Porter, decided to leave the company for a corporate job at Staples.  _ Lucky bastard  _ thought Jim,  _ I’d do the same _ . Josh negotiated for Karen Filippelli to come with him to Staples, leaving the rest of the Stamford employees to integrate themselves into the Scranton office. That was weeks ago, and now only Jim and Andy remained. 

 

There was also an annoying manager waiting for Jim. Michael Scott had been a funny if pitiful boss when Jim initially started. But after seeing what competent management looked like (thank you, Josh), Jim could no longer stomach Michael and his antics. He now had an increased workload due to the Stamford employees quitting after Michael terrorized them. 

 

Michael wasn’t the only person Jim dreaded seeing. Dwight and Jim were desk mates once again, and it annoyed Jim to no end. Jim found Dwight staring at him more often than not, and it made him uncomfortable. Jim had decided to end his pranking ways back in Stamford, after driving Andy into a fit of rage. Jim didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a beating from the shorter man. It was something he continued to do in Scranton, not wanting to incur the wrath of both Andy  _ and _ Dwight. It wasn’t worth it in Jim’s opinion. That, and Andy’s little freak out made Jim reevaluate how his “pranks” affected people. He remember how upset Dwight had been last year when he found out that Toby never reported Jim to corporate. Dwight had been seething with rage. It made Jim feel guilty. He’d be lying if he said he thought his and Dwight’s pranks against each other weren’t mostly one-sided. But he’d thought that Dwight got the same rush from his pranks against Jim that Jim got from Jim. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. Besides, even  _ if _ he wanted to, Jim couldn’t muster up the strength or resolve to pull off a prank. He was just tired. 

 

Jim could feel eyes on him as he sat in his car. He looked out of the passenger side window to see Dwight staring at him. Jim hadn’t notice that anyone else had pulled into the previously empty parking lot, too busy wallowing in his own dread and self pity. Having being noticed, Dwight hurried into the building. Jim was unsettled by the man’s behavior. He skin felt clammy whenever he felt the farmer looking. He felt nervous, as if he were waiting for Dwight to attack.  _ Why is he doing this  _ thought Jim. He wasn’t planning on pranking him. He chewed his bottom lip remembering all the times he had pranked Dwight over the last four years. Maybe  _ this  _ was how Dwight felt as he waited for Jim’s traps to spring. The thought made Jim feel nauseous. He swallowed his bile down.

 

Outside of the staring Dwight had been standoffish to towards Jim since he came back. The two hadn’t had a single conversation since Jim had gotten back, and not even the jeering taunts the two had been previously accustomed to. Instead the pair worked in silence, with the only noise coming from their desk cluster being sales calls. Dwight went out of his way to avoid being in a room with Jim otherwise, and truthfully, Jim appreciated it. Dwight made Jim feel anxious in ways he hadn’t before he left for Stamford, and the weight of these anxieties weighed down on Jim whenever Dwight was near. So Jim also kept his distance. It was surprising easy since Dwight and Jim had never been friends.

 

However, Jim had a friend in the office: Pam. At least, he did. Since transferring back to Scranton a few weeks ago, Jim and Pam hadn’t had a chance to speak to one another. Jim felt awkward having left Scranton to get away from the woman he loved, only to end right back where he started. He was a bit thankful for his time in Stamford, because he was able to somewhat get over his crush on Pam. Somewhat. Instead of his heart roaring in his ears when he saw the redheaded beauty, it just beat a bit faster. Still, Pam was avoiding him just like Dwight. If he smiled at her while walking into the Pam office, Pam would reply by looking down at her desk. If he tried to walk over to reception to make small talk with her then she would pick up the phone to make a fake call, or scurry off to the to the break room. Once, Pam even walked into the lion’s den that was Michael’s office to avoid chatting with Jim. He had gotten the hint after that. 

 

Jim fiddled with his phone and looked at the time. 8:30 am. Another thirty minutes until work would start. Jim got out of his car and headed into the building. Jim had taken to arriving at work an hour to an hour and a half early. He had nothing better to do. He would awaken at 5:00 am, exercise, and be out of his house by 6:45 am. He’d take a longer commute, and pick up breakfast he couldn’t stomach from a fast food restaurant. He toyed with the idea of waking up later, or sleeping in, but found that he couldn’t. He currently lacked a social life which prompted him to be in bed by 9:00 pm. Jim didn’t have many friends in Scranton before he left, and that number dwindled to zero when he came back. So his entire life consisted of work at the moment. Bad for his psyche, but good for his sales quota. Jim felt desperate and needy enough to even hang out with Andy or  _ Michael. _ Thankfully he hadn’t asked either to do so yet.

 

Jim got out of his car and headed into the office. He was deep in thought as he rode the elevator up. Michael, Dwight, and Pam. It was enough to make Jim want to run for the hills. But they weren’t the only people Jim was avoiding. Stepping off of the elevator and into the office, Jim averted his eyes away from the empty reception desk. It was dumb and for naught, he knew, since at this time there wouldn’t be anyone in the office besides Jim and Dwight. Jim dumped his work bag and coat at his desk and carried his leftovers off to the break room. Jim would hide from Dwight in the break room until the rest of his coworkers filed in. However, in the break room sat the person Jim Halpert had been dreading the most.

 

Roy Anderson.

 

\----

During the past few weeks it seemed that Roy was the only person willing to talk to Jim (outside of Andy and Michael). It was weird, Jim thought, that Roy was interested in him. The two weren’t close when Jim worked there, not with Jim vying for an engaged Pam’s attention. No, they weren’t close. But that was almost a year ago, and things had changed. That much was obvious. So he entertained it. Jim was bored and lonely. He needed something to distracted him from Dwight’s unsubtle stares and Pam’s avoidance. And Roy would do. 

Roy would come upstairs to the office for his lunch breaks, something he didn’t do when Jim worked here before. He figured Roy was here to visit Pam, but as Phyllis would tell it, eyes pinched and lips twisted, Pam had left Roy at the altar on the day of their wedding. Roy had been apathetic to the whole thing, uninterested in his bride to be and fiancee of Lord knows how many years running away. No, he wasn’t there for Pam, but something else. Roy instead spent his lunch breaks with Jim huddled in the break room. He’d spend any break he had there, even if it meant coming upstairs for five minutes.

Conversation between Jim and Roy was mostly one-sided with Roy doing the talking.  _ Did you watch the game last night, what are your plans for the weekend, what are your hobbies?  _ Roy would ask. Jim had no answers for the man.  _ No, I didn’t watch the game because I’m lame and went to bed at 9:00. I have nothing planned because I have no friends. My only hobby was pranking people and making them feel bad about themselves. I’ve retired that so now I do nothing. _ Those were awful answers so Jim kept quiet. Roy didn’t seem to mind however, and continued to talk at Jim. 

Jim learned that Roy was a pretty good cook, when he tried. He initially allowed Jim to sample whatever concoction he’d come up the night before, but soon he started bringing separate Tupperware containers with lunch (and sometimes dinner) just for Jim. It was nice, Jim couldn’t cook for shit and often didn’t have the will to. His lunches mostly consisted of his leftover fast food breakfasts. He would keep Jim updated on the sports he currently didn’t watch, and recommend new shows and movies for Jim to try. Roy was the closest thing Jim had to a friend at the moment.

This continued on for weeks, until the yesterday evening. 

Jim sat down in the empty break room. He purposely took a later lunch than everyone else so could avoid his coworkers looks and pitying stares.  _ Pity me for what _ thought Jim,  _ my life is great right now. Who the hell cares about Pam? _ The door to the break room swung open and Roy stepped in. Jim wasn’t sure how the bulkier man knew when he was taking his impromptu lunch break, but there he was. Roy sat close to Jim in his personal bubble. This made Jim uncomfortable and he shifted away.

“Hey” signaled Roy. “Are you doing later tonight, Halpert?” Jim wasn’t doing anything, and didn’t want to do anything. Seeing where this conversation was headed Jim replied, “Maybe, I might visit my brother later. It’s my niece--,” 

“You have no plans, it’s not your niece’s anything.”  _ What the hell?  _ Jim was a bit peeved. How could Roy know whether or not Jim had plans? Jim couldn’t remember ever speaking to Roy about his family. But maybe he did, and he had mentioned his niece’s birthday. It wasn’t actually tonight, and now Jim felt bad about saying it. It was also rude of him to treat his  _only_ friend in such a rude way.  Guilty, Jim answered, “Yeah, you’re right. What’s up?”

Anger flashed through Roy’s eyes before dissipating into the kind look Jim had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. It seemed that Roy didn’t care for Jim’s little lie, but restrained himself. “Me and some of the guys from the warehouse are heading to Poor Richard’s after work. Do you want to come?”

Seeing that Roy knew he had no plans there would be no point in saying no. It had been a long time since Jim went out anyways. His current routine consisted of going to work and then going home, with sporadic stops to his parents’ house and the grocery store. It would be nice to reconnect with some of the employees here. Jim shrugged, giving his nonverbal agreement that he would go.

“Good. See you there at 9:00” said Roy. He flashed Jim a handsome smile before getting up to leave.

\---

He sat at home for a few hours before heading out. He decided to start a new television show, figuring the noise would make his empty apartment feel less hostile. Deciding on some anime he found via googling, Jim sat down and watched two episodes before leaving the house. He drove slowly and arrived at Poor Richard’s at 9:10, a bit later than the agreed upon time. He figured Roy wouldn’t notice since the other warehouse workers would be there. Besides, it was game night and Roy couldn’t resist the Phillies.

There was still many open parking spots outside of the bar, indicating that there weren’t many people inside. Jim gulped. When walking into the bar Jim only saw Roy. He sat at a booth in the back corner, head turned up at the game on the screen. There were two drinks already in front of him, a beer and what looked to be a sidecar. Jim guessed there was someone else here, but away from the table. 

“Hey, ” Jim breathed out. He sat down on the opposite side of the booth, facing Roy. “Where is everybody?” Roy took a swig of his beer. “Not coming,” he answered.

“Oh. Why?” Jim was curious. It didn’t seem like Darryl and Co. to miss an opportunity to drink.

“Because I never invited them.” Jim fell a chill run up his spine when Roy pushed the sidecar to his side of the table. Roy then stood and sat beside Jim, trapping him between Roy’s broad shoulders and the wall. “I wanted to be alone with just you,” Roy continued, “but I didn’t know how. You’d refuse if you knew no one else was coming.” Roy pushed Jim closer to the wall, leaving him with only a little space to move his arms.

Jim felt afraid. Had Roy only been kind to him these past few weeks to pound on him? Did he think that he was back in town to get with Pam like everyone else at Dunder Mifflin? Maybe this was his way of getting back at Jim for liking Pam. _ Maybe Pam broke the wedding off due to our kiss!  _ Jim thought. Eyes wide, Jim turned to Roy to apologize. “Roy, I’m so sorry about what happened with Pam. I confessed to her so I could find closure. I didn’t want to ruin your wedding.”

Roy leaned in on the floor, resting his head on his balled fist. He raised an eyebrow at Jim’s words and smirked. “Drink your drink, Jim. It’s your favorite.” It was now Jim’s turn to raise his brows. How did Roy know what his favorite drink was? No one but Jim himself was privy to that information. With Roy’s amused eyes watching him, Jim sipped the sidecar. Roy began to speak again. “I’m not upset about the wedding. As embarrassed as I was in the moment, I’ve always known that me and Pam would never work out. So don’t think that’s why I’ve invited you here.”

“Well, why am I here?”

Roy leaned in so close that his forehead touched Jim’s. “It’s because I like you,” he breathed. Jim could feel Roy’s word tickling across his face. Jim could also feel heat rise from his neck to his face at Roy’s words. Roy kept his eyes locked on Jim’s. “I’ve been watching you for a while now Jim. I like you a lot. For years now. I know everything about you. What you like, what you don’t like, what you eat, your interests and tastes. Your  _ preferences.  _ And I want you.” Roy pushed closer, as if he were trying to meld Jim into the wall. Their noses were touching now, and Jim could feel the heat in his face begin to pool in his crotch.

“Why me,” Jim croaked out.

“Because I find you interesting.” Jim couldn’t believe that, he didn’t even find  _ himself  _ interesting. He kind of just existed at the moment, so to hear that Roy had been harboring a crush on him for a while felt a bit jarring. “What about Pam,” Jim asked.

Roy grimaced at the mention of Pam. “Pam likes you too,” Roy answered, and Jim’s heart skipped a beat. “I knew that. She told me about the kiss and how she enjoyed it. I wasn’t jealous that she liked you, or that you monopolized her attention. I couldn’t give a shit. What I didn’t like was the fact that  _ you  _ liked  _ her.  _ That she monopolized your attention. I stayed with her because if I did she could never have you. If I couldn’t have you then neither could she. I told her that the day before the wedding. It was no surprise to me that she didn’t show up.”

“That’s… a lot. That’s actually really mean, Roy.”

“Maybe so. But I’m the one who’s sitting here while Pam is at home with her boxed wine.”

Roy leaned in and pressed his lips to Jim’s. The kiss was very chaste, but firm. Jim knew he shouldn’t. Roy had just said he strung along the woman that up until recently Jim considered to be his best friend. That would actually explain why Pam avoided Jim, since Roy staked a claim on him as soon as he got back. She probably resented Jim for ruining her relationship with Roy. After all, Jim had apparently capitaved both parties in the relationship. Roy had also basically confessed to stalking him. That actually explained why Roy knew his niece’s birthday and favorite drink. Jim should be disgusted!

But.

Jim has been so _ lonely  _ since transferring back to Scranton. He had no friends or relationships to keep him company. He was bored and desperate. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Roy’s attention. It felt thrilling to know that someone wanted him so badly that they’d tank their own relationship to be with him. So Jim deepened the kiss. Roy snaked his hand behind Jim’s head and pulled him in closer. They stayed like this for a while, until Roy pulled away.

“Let me take you back to my place,” Roy asked hopefully.

All Jim could do was nod.

\---

Roy threw Jim onto his bed the minute they got through the door. Jim had followed Roy home in his car. The pair could not keep their hands off one another as they walked up the three flights of stairs to Roy’s apartment. He pushed Jim down and began stripping him of his pants, starting with his belt. Jim moaned at the rough treatment. Having finally freed Jim of his pants, Roy begin massaging Jim’s erection while stepping out of his own jeans. Jim moaned louder, unable to contain himself any longer. Roy pulled his underwear off, freeing his own erection. He moved to stand in front of Jim at the head of the bed. 

“Suck,” said Roy, gesturing to his dick. Jim blushed. He had never been with a man before (although he always wanted to try) and had no idea how to perform fellatio. With little hesitance Jim moved down to the floor and got on his knees. He grabbed Roy’s member and slowly put it in his mouth. He only got half of it in before he started to gag. Easing off of it a little, Jim gripped the what he couldn’t fit in his mouth one hand while palming at Roy’s balls with his other hand. If Jim received a blowjob, this is how he want it done. He just hoped Roy liked it too. Above him Roy moaned.

Well. That’ll do it.

Jim continued to suck while jerking away at the base of Roy’s dick and fondling his balls. Roy gripped onto the back of Jim’s head and began to thrust deeper into the taller man’s mouth. Jim felt his eyes water as he gagged on Roy’s dick. However, he keep sucking and swallowing, taking Roy’s dick in deeper. 

“Oh yeah, baby. Yeah! You suck cock like a pro. Do you like that, huh? Do you like me fucking your face like a whore? I’ve bet this isn’t your first time sucking dick.” Jim didn’t know how to respond. He looked up at Roy with teary eyes from his position on the floor. He locked eyes with Roy. He couldn’t talk with his mouth full, but he hoped the look in his eyes conveyed that this was his first time doing this. Roy tightened his grip on Jim’s head in response. Suddenly, Roy exploded in Jim’s mouth, cumming right down his throat. Jim had not time to prepare, and was forced to drink Roy’s salty semen. Roy rode out his orgasm, waiting until he was done cumming before pulling out of Jim’s mouth.

“On the bed,” commanded Roy. Jim stayed kneeled over on the floor, still in a daze from what just took place. Roy rolled his eyes and lifted the taller man onto the bed. Roy reached into his nightstand and began searching for lube and a condom. Once he found them, he retrieved the condom from the drawer and rolled it onto his dick. He then took the lube from the drawer and squeezed it onto his fingers.  

“Hey Roy,” called Jim.

“Yeah?”

“Uhm, that was my first time doing that, just so you know.” said Jim self consciously. Roy looked into Jim’s tired eyes before leaning in to kiss him. “That’s fine, you did a good job,” Roy praised. Jim gave him a small smile in return.

“This may hurt a bit,” Roy warned, “try to relax.” Roy pushed his lubed index finger into Jim’s ass. Jim sucked in a deep breath at the discomfort in his behind. Roy worked the digit in and out of Jim’s ass until he deemed him ready for another finger. He did this until he added his third finger in. Above him Jim writhed in discomfort. The intrusion in his behind was unsavory, and Jim didn’t enjoy the pain that came with it. However, Roy soon hit a bundle of nerves that made Jim see stars. He moaned aloud. Roy, taking Jim’s outburst as a positive sign, kept hitting the sweet spot that drove Jim wild. 

“Roy, hurry,” Jim bit out.

“Hurry and do what,” asked Roy with a smirk.

“F-f-fuck me,” cried Jim. Roy didn’t need an invitation. He removed his fingers from Jim’s ass, and seated himself right behind the taller boy. He pulled both of Jim’s legs onto his shoulders. Slowly, he entered Jim, watching the younger man for any signs of discomfort. Noticing none he continued. Jim moaned even more. Roy grabbed onto Jim’s erection and began to jerk him off while fucking into him

“Ahh, ahh, aah! Keep going Roy!”

Roy smirked and leaned in to press a kiss to Jim’s temple. “As you wish, princess.”

They were both close. Jim grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders as he buried himself deep within Jim. The two came at the same time. Jim collapsed onto the bed with Roy falling on top of him. Roy rolled over and removed the used condom from his flaccid dick, tying it and discarding it in a waste bin beside his bed. He turned back to Jim. 

“That was incredible, Jim. For this to be your first time, you such are a good lay. Much better than Pam.”

“Oh.”

“I meant no harm. I’m just telling you. You’re a better person than she is. Overall. In general,” whispered Roy. Jim studied Roy. He couldn’t understand how Roy could think that he was a better person than Pam. She was a saint. Roy was many things though, and a liar was not one of them. He seemed genuine enough, and despite some more unsavory qualities ( _ he’s a stalker!  _ said the voice in the back of his head), Roy was also a nice guy. Jim cuddled up to Roy while keeping his eyes on him. Roy’s heart jumped at Jim’s accidentally coquettish behavior. 

“You know, I’d never hurt you Jim. Ever,” whispered Roy. He stroked Jim’s hair, glazing down at the tired man. “You should give me a chance, I could make you really happy. I think we were meant to be together.” 

Jim looked up at him with tired eyes. “Could I think about it? It’s a bit soon to rush into a relationship.” Jim did want a relationship, anything, but he had to think about whether or not he wanted to jump into one with  _ Roy _ . Today had been a weird day.

“That’s fine.  _ We _ have all the time in the world.”

\----

At five am Jim untangled himself from Roy’s sleeping form. Silently he got dressed. Making sure Roy was still asleep Jim exited his apartment.

\----

There sat Roy in all of his buff, blue collar glory. He flashed a handsome smile at Jim. 

“Hey,” greeted Roy.

“Uh… hi…,” croaked Jim. He stood in the doorway, hesitant to go in. Roy was the last person Jim wanted to deal with today. Or ever. But Roy made him feel less nervous than Dwight did, and Jim could feel Dwight’s eyes on the back of his neck. So in the breakroom he went. He put his leftovers into the refrigerator and sat at the table away from Roy. Roy smiled once again and moved closer to Jim. Jim retrieved his phone from his pocket and pretended to read something. He hoped Roy would get the hint and leave him alone. He didn’t.

“Aww, you don’t want to talk to me,” cooed Roy. He had a smirk on his face and seemed pleased with himself. He knew he had pushed Jim’s buttons. Jim could feel his face head up in embarrassment.

“No, I don’t. Just leave me alone,” mumbled Jim, bringing his phone closer to his face. Roy snatched the phone from Jim’s hand and put it in his back pocket. “Hey!” yelled out Jim before Roy slapped a hand over his mouth. He moved in the seat right next to Jim.

“You’re really upset with me right now,” frowned Roy. He looked at Jim and could see fear in the chocolate eyes. Roy sighed. “I hope you’re not regretting last night.”

Jim  _ was _ , but he didn’t voice it. Instead, Roy spoke again. 

“You said you’d consider me. Have you decided?” Jim hadn’t. He wasn’t sure. Sure, Roy had been a good friend to Jim these last few weeks, but was any of that really real? He treated Pam very cruelly. He had kind of admitted to stalking him too. And for a very long time, since the first met? That had to be four years ago. It was unsettling in ways that even Dwight couldn’t touch. But Jim looked into Roy’s dark brown eyes. They seemed so warm and honest. Honest. And honestly, who was Jim to judge Roy for being cruel to Pam, when he was equally as cruel to Dwight with his incessant pranks? Jim bit on his bottom lip and looked away. That wouldn’t be fair of him; he was trying to change his cruel ways. Who was he to say that Roy couldn’t do the same? And there’s no way Roy was really stalking him. He was probably speaking hyperbolically, saying that he really liked Jim. He probably only knew what Jim told him. It probably just slipped his mind that he told Roy his favorite drink, or his family’s birthdays. They  _ had  _ gotten close the past couple of weeks. This was things that Roy could have easily found on Facebook.

“Hello, princess, are you still there,” called Roy. Jim looked up.

“Yeah. Give me time, okay? I have a lot to think about,” replied Jim. Roy smiled. He leaned in and captured Jim’s lips in a chaste kiss similar to the one from the night before. Roy ended the kiss and stood up to leave. He removed Jim’s phone from his back pocket and put it on the table.

“Let me know,” Roy said before exiting the room.

\---

It was currently 8:40 am and the office was still empty save for Jim and Dwight. Their coworkers would be filing in within the next ten minutes. Jim sat in his seat and waited for everyone to come. He spun himself in his chair, trying not to focus too much on Dwight’s staring. It was much too early for Jim to feel this anxious, but Dwight and Roy were working his nerves. After a couple minutes of making himself dizzy Jim ceased his spinning. He turned to Dwight and said, “Dwight stop it.”

“Stop what,” replied Dwight, looking down at a fantasy novel on his desk.

“Staring at me. I can see it. I can  _ feel  _ it. What the hell is your problem anyways,” asked Jim.

“I don’t have a problem, Jim. What is  _ your  _ problem?”

“I don’t have a problem, besides you staring at me.”

“What about  _ Roy. _ ” Ah. Dwight had been listening in on his conversation with Roy. For the first time in weeks, Jim felt his anxiety towards Dwight replaced with something else. Anger. Jim stood before a sitting Dwight. “Dwight, it’s rude to listen in on someone’s conversation. You’re a fucking jackass.”

“Don’t date Roy,” Dwight simply said. Jim’s anger was gone as fast it came, and he was left feeling confused.

“What?”

“Don’t date Roy, Jim,” Dwight repeated. Jim wasn’t in much of a mood to have Dwight judge him on his life choices. He was a grown man and could do whatever he wanted. “I don’t see how this is your business Dwight, I can date whoever I please,” say Jim, leaning into Dwight’s personal space.

Dwight closed the gap between him and Jim by stealing a kiss. For the third time that morning Dwight had surprised him.

“Don’t date him, Jim. I want you, date me instead.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's having a really bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here's another update! This chapter didn't turn our the way I expected it to, but I don't mind it. I think the story's heading in a different direction than I initially planned. Once again, this chapter isn't beta'd so let me know if there are any mistakes.

The rest of the Dunder Mifflin employees began to file in after Dwight’s impromptu kiss. The kiss left Jim a bright red color, from the top of his ears down to his neck. He was still feeling antsy from having Dwight in his personal space. His eyes darted back and forth from Dwight to the door. He felt clammy and sweaty, and he looked it too. All of these things combined made Jim look ill. Phyllis walked in and saw what looked to be a dying Jim.

 

“Sweetie, are you okay,” asked Phyllis. She sat her belongings at her desk and came back over to Jim. Checking his temperature with the back of her, Phyllis ruled out any illnesses. “No, I’m fine,” croaked out Jim. He was still in shock.

 

“He’s fine,” said Dwight with a smirk. “I laced his coffee with habanero sauce. I think that’ll teach him to prank the prank master!” Jim nodded along with Dwight’s fictitious tale, eager for Phyllis’ doting to cease. “Oh. Well, go easy on him Dwight. It seems that Jimmy is in pain.” Phyllis gently rubbed Jim’s shoulder. “Let me know if you ever need anything honey.”

 

Jim didn’t look at Dwight for the rest of the morning, although he could still feel the farmer’s eyes on him. At 11:30 Dwight slid a note over to Jim’s desk.  _ Will you go to lunch with me?  _ it read. Jim wanted to say no, he wasn’t in the mood to be bothered. But he made the mistake of looking up into Dwight’s eyes. He looked hopeful, and Jim didn’t want to crush that hope. He’d already crush Dwight multiple times in the past. He nodded. 

 

——

 

At noon Dwight got up and put on his coat. Jim watched as he left the office. He waited until he heard the elevator dings fade away, signaling that Dwight had reached the lobby. Jim followed after him. He tried to control his breathing while in the elevator, nervous to be alone with Dwight for any extended period of time. He couldn’t place why he felt like this around the man, but he did. The elevator doors opened and Jim stepped out into the lobby. Dwight was leaning against the wall beside the elevator. He smirked, and turned off his lavalier. Jim did the same. 

 

“I knew you’d come,” Dwight said heading towards the door. “No one can resist my manly presence.” Jim rolled his eyes and followed after Dwight. Dwight was already near his Trans Am. Jim stood by the office doors. “Should we take separate cars,” asked Jim. 

 

“No reason to.” Dwight walked up to Jim and took his hand, pulling him towards the car. He opened the passenger side door and allowed Jim to awkwardly slide in before closing the door behind him. Dwight climbed into the driver's seat and peeled out of the lot. Jim paranoidly looked around for the camera crew, hoping that none were following them. He had gotten so caught up in Roy the night before that he forgot to check to see if they were at the bar. He had meant to ask the production staff during lunch, but here he sat. He just wished they had taken separate cars. 

 

Dwight hadn’t asked if Jim had any lunch preferences, and Jim hadn’t offered up any. Instead Dwight headed towards a barbecue restaurant twenty minutes away. It seems that they would be taking a long lunch break today. The outside of the restaurant was modeled after a Western, or perhaps Southern, saloon.  _ Just the place Dwight would like  _ thought Jim. Dwight parked, and Jim checked once more for the camera crew. They weren’t around but Jim couldn’t shake his feeling of anxiety.

 

Dwight jumped out of the car, and  _ slid _ across the hood of his car Dukes of Hazzard style to open Jim’s door. Jim sank down into his seat.  _ How embarrassing _ he thought. Dwight opened the door and held out his hand for Jim to take. Jim ignored the hand and stepped out of the car, brushing past Dwight. Jim walked the restaurant doors and attempted to open one, but Dwight reached for the handle at the exact same time. “Dwight, let go!” Jim bit out. “Nonsense,” replied Dwight, “You’re  _ my date _ and I asked you out. Chivalry isn’t dead you know.”

 

The two struggled with the door, with both Jim and Dwight pulling the handle in different directions. A bemused hostess watched the scene from inside the restaurant. This caught Jim’s attention and he let go of the door. Dwight, still holding on to the handle, swung the door right into Jim’s forehead. “What the fuck, Dwight?!” yelled out Jim, doubling over in pain. Dwight grimaced, and ushered Jim into the restaurant, past the concerned hostess, to his favorite table. Jim sat down in the round booth and rested his hurting head on the table. The hostess ran up with menus and a bag of ice. 

 

“That’s quite a hit you took there! Can’t trust Dwight not to hurt a fella,” the hostess said passing the ice to Dwight. Jim groaned. The hostess left the menus on the table and promised to be with some water and more ice, and “maybe some Tylenol for the poor boy’s noggin”. Dwight looked down at the bent over Jim, and sat next to him in the booth. He lifted Jim’s head by his chin and placed the ice pack on the swelling on Jim’s forehead. It’d leave a bruise for sure, but luckily Dwight hadn’t caused the younger man to bleed. He sighed.

 

The pain in his head meant nothing to Jim at the moment. He could only notice how close Dwight sat near him. It brought up flashbacks of Roy the night before, trapping him between his shoulders and the wall of the booth at Poor Richard’s. Jim wasn’t trapped here though, since the booth was round and Jim could slide out of the other side. But Jim hadn’t drove, so he’d still be at Dwight’s mercy lest he wanted to call an Uber. “Dwight, sit on the other side,” Jim snapped. He didn’t want anyone in his personal space. 

 

Dwight moved to the other side of the booth, but slid in further so he wouldn’t be too far away from Jim. “Jim, should we go to the hospital? You don’t look well,” asked Dwight, concern laced in his voice. Jim gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Let’s order,” he said instead. Jim let Dwight order his food, he wasn’t particularly hungry to begin with. He felt a mixture of full from his small breakfast, and nervousness from Dwight. But, if he went to the hospital then his parents would be alerted. He was still on their insurance, and he didn’t want them to worry....

 

“How does a pound of ribs with fries and coleslaw sound,” asked Dwight. Jim nodded. The hostess came back with more ice and the Tylenol. Jim took two as Dwight placed their order. “I’ll leave the Tylenol here for you, sweetie,” she said. She rubbed Jim’s back and winked at Dwight before walking away. The two sat in silence watching her walk away.

 

“Okay, Dwight. Why did you invite me here? What was this morning all about,” Jim asked tiredly. 

 

“I told you already. I like you, and I think you’d be better off with me than  _ Roy Anderson. _ ” Jim didn’t believe him. The way he saw it, this was Dwight’s version of a prank. At least he knew Roy was genuine. “Is this a prank Dwight?”

 

“No Jim, it’s not. You’re the prankster, remember,” Dwight replied breezily. Jim felt a pang of self-hatred. He was the prankster, it made sense he’d be defined as such. He suddenly felt bad and wanted to make himself feel better. He didn’t know how, but Dwight could. “Why do you like me,” asked Jim.

 

“Well, you’re funny. You’re pranks can sometimes be mean, but I’ve found myself occasionally laughing along. You can light up a room with your presence. Everyone likes you and wants to be around you. I find your happiness to be infectious; when you’re happy, I’m happy. It doesn’t help that you’re handsome, smart, and kind. All the qualities I’m looking for in a mate,” Dwight said. 

 

That made Jim feel really good. He felt high after hearing Dwight’s kind words. But his high crashed as fast as it came. It was replaced by a feeling of regret. He couldn’t believe he felt momentarily so  _ pitiful  _ that he needed Dwight to validate him. He felt even worse for making Dwight wear his heart on his sleeve. He sat silent. Dwight continued, “I felt annoyed when I found out that Toby never filed any of my complaints to corporate. But not _ super  _ bad. After all, by this point I already liked you. It was more annoying finding out Toby couldn’t do his simple ass job properly. I felt worse when you started to consider transferring to Stamford. And then you did.”

 

“You told me to transfer, Dwight, or you’d get corporate to fire me.”

 

“I didn’t really mean it,” sighed Dwight sadly. “I always said I’d get you fired or ruin your life. And then you’d play a prank on me. I thought that was our thing. Until one day you didn’t come into work. Michael said corporate transferred you to Stamford at your request. You just up and left in the middle of the night. Why? Was it because of me?”

 

Jim did leave urgently. He didn’t want anyone to follow him, or try to stop him. He had even changed his cell phone number and deleted his social media. He had wanted to get away. So he went to his final day of work at Dunder Mifflin Scranton on a Friday, packed up his car, and left town. He started at the Stamford branch that Monday. “No Dwight, I just had a lot of personal stuff going on. I thought moving away would be a good change of pace for me. Help me clear my head and what not. It really didn’t work out that way though,” Jim said sheepishly. “Was it Pam,” asked Dwight. Jim nodded. It was her, among other things.

 

The hostess brought out their order and placed it on the table. She asked if Jim wanted another ice pack since his first two had melted. His head was still pounding, and his eyesight felt a bit foggy, but he refused. Jim instead watched Dwight eat as he gingerly picked away at the fries. He would sleep it off when he got home from work. 

 

“Dwight, since when have you been interested in men? It doesn’t seem to match your aesthetic very much,” asked Jim.

 

“I like who I think I’m romantically and sexually compatible with,” stated Dwight in a matter of fact way. He was staring at Jim now, giving the taller man his full attention. Jim could feel his face warming up. “How long have you been interested in men,” Dwight shot back. Jim rolled his eyes. “I dunno, maybe since yesterday? Maybe forever, maybe I’m not. I dunno.” 

 

It was Dwight’s turn to roll his eyes.“Well, I want you to “consider” me also. I overheard you telling Roy that you’d consider him. I’d like to add my name into the mix, if you will.” Dwight flagged down the hostess and asked for the bill. Most of the food was gone, Jim realized. “I assume you and Roy went out on a date last night,” asked Dwight, bitterly. He pulled out his wallet, ready to pay.

 

Jim pulled out his wallet also. “I guess you could call it that,” mumbled Jim. Dwight looked at him patiently. “What,” asked Jim.

 

“What happened last night?”

 

“Same thing as this, but I ended up going home with Roy…,” said Jim, voice filled with regret. Roy has been good to Jim the past few weeks, and even better in bed, but Jim had to process Roy’s behavior. What he told Jim about his and Pam’s relationship was creepy, and made Jim feel even worse about how he played into it. Still, he couldn’t deny that Roy was charismatic and that he liked him a little. 

 

“So you slept with him,” Dwight stated, eyes and voice full of jealousy. Jim nodded. “Was that your first time? With a man?” Jim nodded again and Dwight tsked. This wouldn’t do.

 

“Well, whenever you’re in the mood to do  _ that  _ again, let me know. I think I could show you a better time than  _ Roy Anderson _ could.”

  
  


——-

 

It was a quiet ride back to the office. They’d be at least 30 minutes late to work, but Dwight didn’t mind. He had paid for the meal, saying that since he asked Jim out, it was his duty to pay for it. Jim hadn’t minded that. Now, in the silence of the car, Jim’s anxiety came back. He worried about how their coworkers would react to them coming back together. They’d left at different times but it’d be obvious that they were together since they were coming back at the same time, and so late. Jim cowered. Dwight’s presence was also causing him problems. He wasn’t sure why he had been so on edge around Dwight. Obviously, Dwight didn’t hate him, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop racing. Maybe it was something about Dwight’s alpha male personality that made him nervous? That didn’t make sense either. He knew Dwight would never hurt him, so there was no need to be afraid of him. Jim looked at Dwight. He found him a bit similar to….no. He wouldn’t say that. Jim turned away. He chalked his anxiety up to the seasons changing, and his still throbbing head. He could see white spots in his vision, but he vowed to ignore it until he could go home and sleep. Sleep was the only thing he really looked forward to these days.

 

Dwight glanced at Jim and could see the younger man was worrying himself to death over something. “When we get back we’ll say we went on a sales call together, and then we stopped for lunch afterwards,” Dwight reassured. With his free hand Dwight took hold of Jim’s right hand. Jim looked at him. “You know,” Jim started, “I never gave you an answer back at the restaurant.” Dwight was confused but stayed quiet. “Yes, I’ll consider you too. Just as I told Roy before, I’ll need my time. Especially since I have two options now,” continued Jim with a playful roll of the eyes. Dwight perked up before settling on a pleased smirk. Jim gave him a small smile, and rested his aching, swimming head on the window.

 

——

 

Jim must have dozed off, because the next thing he remembered was Dwight’s panicked form above him, shaking him. They were in the Dunder Mifflin parking lot. Dwight had opened the passenger side door and was leaning over him. “Whattttt,” Jim slurred out. He wanted to go back to bed. 

 

“Jim, I think you have a concussion. We need to get you to the hospital!” Jim shot up, hitting his already sore head against Dwight’s. He was  _ not  _ going to the hospital. He groaned, and tried getting out of the car. Dwight pushed him back down. “No,” shouted Jim, “I’m not going!” Jim bit Dwight’s hand, causing the older man to cuss. Jim attempted to crawl out of the car by placing his hands on the ground. Dwight caught him and pulled him back into the car. “Stop,” screamed Jim.

 

“Hey, what the hell is going on out here!” Dwight turned to the newcomer’s voice to see an irate Roy Anderson thundering towards him. “Great,” said Dwight under his breath. “This is just what I need.” Dwight stood up straight and walked towards Roy, meeting him halfway. All Roy saw was a hurt Jim,  _ his Jim _ , being manhandled by Dwight. From his perceptive it seemed that Dwight had intentionally injured Jim. Roy was growing angry, and it didn’t bode well for Dwight. “What the fuck,  _ freak _ ! What are you doing to Jim,” yelled Roy. He tried walking around Dwight to get to Jim, but was stopped by the farmer grabbing on to his wrist. “This isn’t a problem you need to concern yourself with,  _ Anderson. _ ”

 

“Bullshit,” spat Roy. “You hurt Jim you nerdy freak. I won’t let you have your way with him!” 

 

“I think that’s for Jim to decide,” said Dwight smugly. Roy saw red. He launched his free fist into Dwight’s cheek, causing him to stumble back. Dwight returned the punch with a hard kick to Roy’s side. The bulkier man doubled over, and then charged at Dwight, knocking him into the hedges and gate that surrounded the industrial complex. Dwight socked Roy in the lip hard. Roy return the punch in kind and spit his blood from his mouth onto Dwight’s face. Roy backhanded Dwight, causing Dwight’s glasses to dislodge themselves. Dwight then headbutted Roy in his stomach, momentarily knocking the wind of the man. Dwight went in for another headbutt, but Roy grabbed him by the back of his brown suit jacket. Dwight fell to the ground, but managed to grab Roy before falling, bringing them both to the ground. The two men continued to throw punches on the ground, neither noticing that Jim had crept to his own car. He didn’t want to go to the hospital, and he’d be damned if he let either of the fighting men take him. 

 

Jim climbed into the driver’s seat of his car. He had to get home! Jim’s eyesight swam, and he couldn’t think clearly. He had a hard time focusing on where he needed to go. He couldn’t even stay awake, his head feeling too heavy for his body. He pulled his car out a little, alerting the two men of Jim’s attempt to flee in his injured state. Dwight rolled off of Roy and jumped on the hood of his car. Jim, startled, let out a loud scream. Roy walked over to the driver’s side of Jim’s car. He signaled for Jim to roll down his window. Ever obedient, Jim did so. Roy pushed his hand down into Jim’s car through the cracked window and opened the door. He leaned over Jim and put the car into park. Roy looked into Jim’s eyes. “Hey, princess. You’re in no condition to drive.” Roy cupped Jim’s face and gave him a chaste kiss. Jim groaned, not having the strength to fight him. Instead he closed his eyes and embraced the darkness closing in on him. “Let’s get you in my car, and I’ll take you to the hospital.” Roy moved to remove Jim’s seat belt and lift him out of the car when Dwight stopped him. 

 

“ _ I  _ was taking Jim to the hospital before  _ you  _ came stomping over like a barbarian,” yelled Dwight. Dwight tugged on Roy’s shoulders, trying to get the man off of Jim. Instead, the small scuffle caused Roy to knock into the transmission stick. Now in reverse, and powered by Jim’s foot on the gas, the Camry shot backwards throwing Roy out of the car. The Camry slammed into a light pole right outside of the complex’s gate. Jim’s head snapped forward and hit the steering wheel. Both Dwight and Roy ran over to make sure their crush was okay.

 

Above them Michael Scott and Pam Beesley (and multiple cameramen) watched the scene unfold. Pam, red in the face, stepped away and called for an ambulance.

 

——

 

When Jim woke up next he was in a hospital bed with an IV attached to his arm.  _ Fuck!  _ he thought. He tried to avoid going to the hospital, knowing his parents would be alerted. He pressed himself further into his pillows. He was screwed now. 

 

His parents hadn’t taken kindly to Jim moving to Connecticut. He had made the mistake of giving his parents his new number when he first arrived, wanting to stay in contact with  _ somebody _ . For the next week his parents called him at random times screaming at him for running off in the middle of the night. His father would even call him multiple times during the workday to yell at him. Karen and Andy would always pretend not to hear it.

 

To be fair to Jim, he  _ had  _ told his parents that he was thinking about transferring. He had driven down a couple of times to check out apartments there. They had been against it even then. Jim was the baby in his family, and for that reason they never let him do any he wanted to do. Even when he went to college, Jim stayed fairly local. He could never get away from his overbearing parents.

 

Still, he wanted to do something new with his life, and he didn’t think there would be any room for growth in Scranton for him. So he left. Giving them his number was a mistake though. He thought it’d be like how it was on tv, where when a character leaves home his parents would realize how domineering they were being, and accept the change that their child left. He parents weren’t like that. Instead, his father had his phone tracked until he found out Jim’s address. Jim moved to Stamford on a Friday night and started work on Monday. By Wednesday his father drove three hours from Scranton to Stamford to “collect” Jim. He waited for Jim outside of his apartment until he got home. He forced his way into Jim’s apartment, ready to drag Jim back to Pennsylvania. When he realized Jim wouldn’t leave he repeatedly slapped him in his face for “running away”. Called him a coward and a weak man for doing so, and then left. If his coworkers noticed his bruised face the next day then they said nothing. He father came back Friday night and stay until Sunday evening. He would continue to do so every weekend Jim lived in Connecticut until he moved home.

 

Even after he moved back to Scranton, his parents wanted him to live with them. They didn’t trust him, they said. He lost their trust when he “ran away”. He was only permitted to live by himself after his older brothers stepped in and said that they would check in on him every couple of days. His parents relented and allowed him to live alone. He was glad his brothers helped him; they wouldn’t check in on him at all and the three of them knew that. Just because he had no life didn’t mean his siblings didn’t. Still, Jim was required to come visit once a week so his mother could “see his face”. They would have awkward family dinners then.

 

He hoped the hospital hadn’t alerted his parents of him being here. Sure, they’d see it on their insurance report soon than later, but that wasn’t  _ now.  _ He just wanted to be left alone. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes. This was so unfair. The door to Jim’s room rattled. He couldn’t see who it was due to his curtain obscuring his view, but he prayed that it wasn’t his parents. 

 

“Jim,” a voice called. It was just Dwight. Jim sighed. Jim pulled the thick curtain back revealing three men. Roy held a tray of to go coffees. He looked down at Jim sheepishly as he stepped out of the way to reveal one Michael Scott. Michael had a shit eating grin on his face. 

 

“It seems our little Jimothy has found himself caught up in a love triangle.”

 

____

 

Michael left as soon as he came, saying that seeing his “poor boy Jim” laying in a hospital bed was bad for  _ his  _ health. He told him to stay safe from the two beastly men who hung around him. “Their up to no good,” he warned before leaving. Jim rolled his eyes at Michael’s dramatics, but smiled. He could be a pain in the ass but he really did care. Dwight and Roy stayed. Roy sat the tray of coffees down on a bedside bench and took both of Jim’s hands into his. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he babbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jim rubbed the back of Roy’s hands, comforting him instead of the other way around.

 

Dwight also looked pained. “I’m sorry Jim, I didn’t think I hit you hard enough to concuss.”

 

“No problem Dwight! It’s not like you did it on purpose,” stated Jim. “How’d I get to the hospital though, what happened?” The two explained that in his delirious, concussed state that Jim had tried to drive himself home. Roy had tried to climb into the car to stop him, but only ended switching the car into reverse before it hit a pole.  _ Great,  _ thought Jim,  _ my car is totaled.  _ That was under his parents’ name too. Still, his accident didn’t explain why Dwight and Roy were bruised up. “What happened to you guys,” Jim asked.

 

“Uh, I fell out of the car when it accelerated backwards,” said Roy. It wasn’t a total lie. It seemed like Jim didn’t remember Roy and Dwight fighting, even though it happened right under his nose.  _ Thank God for small miracles  _ he thought. He didn’t want the fight to sour Jim’s opinion of him. “Dwight fell to the ground to get outta the way,” Roy continued.

 

Jim’s eyes got as big as saucers. Roy would have found it endearing any other time if it weren’t for the fact that Jim looked ready to cry. “I’m sorry,” Jim hiccuped. He felt bad for hurting Dwight and Roy. The two were very nice to him, and he went and did something like this. Now neither of them would want anything to do with him. Jim’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Dwight moved towards Jim to rub his head, while Roy continued to massage Jim’s hands. Jim felt tired again, and wanted to be alone briefly. “Can someone get me water,” he asked.

 

Both Roy and Dwight shot up. The two pushed each other out of the way to be the first one to get Jim’s water. The room became quiet after they left. Jim slid the curtain closed again, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Before long he heard the door slide open. Frowning, Jim sat back up.  _ They couldn’t be back that fast, could they?  _ he thought. He slid the curtain back and was greeted with the site of his parents.

 

_ Slap! _

 

Jim held his stinging cheek where his father had slapped him. His mother was holding her husband back from assaulting her son once more. Jim had managed not cry earlier, but now he couldn’t stop the tears from falling.  _ What a shitty day this turned out to be  _ thought Jim bitterly. 

 

“This is why we didn’t want you living alone,” Jim’s father yelled. “I knew you’d get yourself in trouble without supervision!” 

 

“Dad,” Jim tried, “This happened during work hours. It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again.” Jim’s father slapped him on his other, wet cheek. Jim bit the inside of his cheek and stayed quiet.

 

Jim’s father was a rather large, physically domineering man. He was much taller than Jim, and even broader than Roy. In his youth he had played a lot of football, landing a spot on the starting lineup at Penn State, before going pro for a few years. An injury sidelined his career, but he was smart. He was able to use the small fortune he had amassed to start a construction company which made him even richer. He had a way about himself that Jim never had, an aura that screamed “I’m in charge here!” Jim both loved and feared his father, although fear was currently winning out. It did most times. But Jim knew his father loved him too. That’s why Jim did whatever his father asked, no matter how it insane it was. He had only broken protocol once, and that was when he moved to Stamford and refused to come back home. It hadn’t gotten him anything but the embarrassment of his father spending every weekend with him.

 

The three of them sat quiet for a while. Jim’s father looked down at his son. His eyes were damp from crying, but his face was otherwise blank. He was trying not to show any emotions in front of his dad. He cared about his youngest child, even if he had a difficult time showing it. 

 

“James,” his father started, “I want you to move back home. That way I can look after you. I don’t think independent living is working out for you. I let you live on your own for a year or two and you go all crazy and run away. When you  _ finally  _ come back home you’re very distance. Now you’re getting into car accidents and giving yourself concussions. It seems to me that you lack the ability to look after yourself so now I have to step in and help. I want you back home by the end of the week, Jim. I don’t care how much breaking your lease cost, I’ll pay it. You  _ will _ move back home.”

 

Jim did whatever he asked. He looked down at his hands.

 

“Okay.”

 

————

 

His parents stayed a while after that discussion. During their visit the doctor came in to speak with him. He had suffered a minor concussion with no other internal injuries. He was also underweight and a bit dehydrated, but that was nothing a good meal couldn’t fix. He’d be good to leave tomorrow morning. Since his car was being serviced his mother vowed to pick him up and bring him to his apartment as soon as she could. His father grunted. Jim didn’t say anything. He’d rather catch the bus home.

 

When his parents left, Roy and Dwight hadn’t come back immediately. They must have saw that his parents were here and skedaddled. Jim couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt that he was at the end of his rope. He had nothing going for himself. His job was shitty and couldn’t even get him far enough away to escape his parents. He had no real friends, just people who either hated him or wanted to fuck him. Now he didn’t even have his autonomy anymore. He just existed. Everything just sucked.

 

Jim could feel his heart beating in his ears. He was beginning to have trouble breathing. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get his heart to slow down. It felt like a fist was squeezing it. Jim was acutely aware of the fact that he was having a panic attack, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Instead, he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He put his sore face on top of his knees and sat. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but he could no longer hear his heart pounding in his ears. He heard the door open but didn't bother to look up. He knew who it was.

 

“Do you want me to get a nurse,” Dwight asked spotting Jim’s bruised face. Roy was still with him, arms folded as he leaned against the wall. “No,” Jim replied, voice muffled by his knees. He peered at the two. They seemed to be a bit standoffish, keeping their distance from one another. “What’s wrong with you two,” Jim asked.

 

“We have something we want to talk about. Together,” replied Roy. Jim sat up and stretched his legs out. His panic attack seemed to be over for the moment, but whatever they were about to say was bound to be just as anxiety inducing. “What’s up,” he said.

 

“Well, we know you said you’d give us both a chance,” started Roy, “so we decided to streamline things a little.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket. It was a contract. “Ten dates for each of us. After that you could pick which one of us you like the most. Whoever loses will have to go back to the friend zone and leave it at that. This is something we designed. What do you say?” Roy held out the paper with a pen. Both Roy and Dwight had already signed it.

 

Jim looked at Roy then Dwight, and back to Roy. It was true that Jim decided that he would talk to them both for the time being, but he didn’t like the fact that the two of them decided how he’d go about it. It pissed him off actually. Nothing in his life seemed to be in his control. He was transferred back to Scranton when he didn’t want to be there. He had to move back home when he didn’t want to. And now he had some sort of love contract dictating how his love life would go. He didn’t like it at all. Jim dealt with it in the same way he dealt with all the frustrations in his life.

 

He accepted it. He didn’t know how to confront the problems in his life.

 

“Sure,” was all he said while he signed the makeshift contract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This chapter was a ride! I hope I gave a bit of insight into why Jim is the way he is. I plan to flesh out his relationship with his parents more in the future. As for Roy and Dwight, well, we'll have to see who he chooses. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim deals with his mom and gets an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! This chapter is beta'd so if you see any mistakes then please let me know!

 It was Thursday morning and Jim was predictably awake. He had himself discharged as soon as the doctors cleared him to go. His mother had kept her promise, and was waiting for Jim at the nurses’ station.

 

“Oh, Jimmy” she exclaimed running up to her son. She pulled Jim down into a hug that he halfheartedly reciprocated. She kissed his still bruised cheeks and let him go. “Let’s roll,” Jim said.

 

* * *

 

 

The car ride back to Jim’s apartment was awkward. Jim’s mother drove the same way he did, taking back roads, side streets, and scenic routes to avoid getting where she needed to be. She was stalling for time. It was obvious that she wanted to say something to him, but hadn’t gotten the courage to.

 

“Mom, what’s up?”

 

“Hmm? Oh nothing dear,” she replied.

 

“There’s something up, mom. What should have been a fifteen minute drive has taken us forty five.” His mother kept her eyes trained on the road, thinking. She had a lot of questions about her son’s recent, erratic behavior, and his change in personality. Instead she asked, “what happened yesterday Jim? It’s not like you to drink and drive.”

 

“I wasn’t drunk when I hit the pole yesterday,” Jim replied. “I had the concussion before that happen. I guess it affected my critical thinking skills, ha ha ha.” Jim’s mother pulled into a gas station and turned to get a better look at her son. She had thought that the concussion had came from Jim smashing his head against the steering wheel of his car, but he in fact had the injury before then. What was he getting up to? _Maybe Gerald had been right,_ she thought, _maybe Jim does need extra supervision!_ Jim looked back at her blandly. “What,” he asked.

 

“How did you get the injury in the first place?”

 

“I went out to lunch with a work friend and he hit me in the head with a metal door. Hilarious, I know. I didn’t think it would concuss so I didn’t go to the hospital right then and there. I figured I’d sleep it off after work, you know? Honestly, who gets a concussion from a door anyways? I had no idea it’d get that bad.” Jim’s mother was appalled, it seemed to Jim’s mother that he did have a lack of regard for his own personal wellbeing. He could have died last night had he gone home with his concussion! There would be no one there to check up on him.

 

“Thank God that girl called for an ambulance, you know the one,” Jim’s mother said, getting out of the car to get gas. It was Jim’s turn to be shocked. He didn’t know it was Pam who called the ambulance. He figured it had been Dwight or Roy, or maybe even Michael. He thought it was sweet that she still cared. Jim smiled. _Wait,_ he thought. If Pam had called 911, then that meant that she had seen him hit the pole. _Yikes!_

 

“—lobby yesterday,” Jim heard his mother say. Jim was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice his mother was back in the car and talking to him, now pulling away from the station and on to the busy road.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Who were those two gentlemen in the lobby yesterday? Please pay attention Jim.”

 

“Those were two of my coworkers, Dwight and Roy. I think I’ve mentioned them before.”

 

“Hmm. Which one hit you with the door, Dwight or Roy? Was it Dwight,” his mother guessed. “Yes,” Jim sank into his seat. He knew what was coming next.

 

“Is that the one who you used to prank,” she hollered. “Jim, how do you know he didn’t do it on purpose! He probably did it to get back at you. You know how those anti social types are,” she sent Jim a pointed glare, “always wanting to take down those stronger than them! He probably wanted to kill you! And you fell for it, going off to “lunch” with him!”

 

Jim snorted. Dwight was way stronger than him by any measure. His mother gave him another dirty look. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Nothing. I don’t think Dwight would try to purposely hurt me. Besides, he’s not weak, he’s a farmer and hunter. If he wanted to kill me he’d take me out to the wood behind his barn and shoot me between my eyes,” Jim laughed darkly. Jim’s mother stared at him and sighed.

 

“And how do you know that? You can never tell with certain men. You should stay away from him,” she replied.

 

“He’s my friend.”

 

“You shouldn’t mix with those types Jim.” Jim looked at his mother. “What’s his type,” he asked. She didn’t know Dwight like he did, and it wasn’t fair that she could make assumptions about him based off of the few things Jim told her about him.

 

“He’s weak and jealous. He probably sees potential in you and is bitter that he’ll never become anything like yourself. There are men who’ll stop at nothing to make sure born leaders never succeed,” she babbled. Jim turned to look out of the window. They were pulling into his neighborhood. “That’s a reach.”

 

“Is it really,” his mother shot back.

 

“Yeah. We do the same job and make the same amount of money. I don’t have anymore potential than he does.” His mother pulled into his apartment complex, parking in a spot across from the entrance.

 

“Yes, you do. You’ll be great someday Jim.”

 

“And when will this someday come, the day where I can “fulfill this potential” you speak of? It can’t come soon enough if you ask me.” Both Jim and his mother sat seething. She had hit a sore spot talking about potential, but Jim could hit back. If you asked him, it was her fault he couldn’t reach his potential...

 

“Shut the fuck up, Jim. Me and your father do what’s best for you, and if doing so means you need to stay close by then that’s that. You can fulfill your potential right here in Scranton, even if that means going down different avenues.” Jim ignored her, turning to face out of the window. He was sick of his mother’s shit but held his tongue. It made no sense to piss her off now that he had to move back in.

 

“Give me a copy of your house key Jim.” His mother held out her hand, waiting for him to remove one from his keyring. “We don’t trust you to actually move yourself without running off _again_ so we’ve hired movers to take your belonging back home. Don’t bother with anything that won’t fit into your room, it’ll be tossed out.” Jim handed him a copy of his key which she promptly snatched from his hand. “Now, get out. I have to get to work.”

 

Jim got out of the car without a word.

 

* * *

 

 

It was only 8:00 am. Jim had been home for an hour, picking up after himself and putting his bedroom items into boxes. He didn’t understand the necessity of hiring movers, it was a wasteful expenditure. It seemed to Jim that his parents just didn’t want to help move his things, despite ordering him to come back. And he couldn’t run anywhere even if he wanted to; his car was still in the shop. He rolled his eyes while dropping a pair of pants into a box. There wasn’t much for him to do anyways, he had barely unpacked his stuff from when he initially moved back.

 

He thought about calling an Uber and going into work, not comfortable sitting in his silent house. He decided against it, not wanting to deal with the fall out of him making an ass out of himself the day before. Besides, knowing Michael he probably told the whole office that Jim was gay and flirting with two different coworkers. He was _not_ in the mood to deal with that. Instead he took a shower and changed into a clean pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt. Once finished in the bathroom Jim went to the living room to grab the laptop he had left on the coffee table two days ago. He sat down on his bed and opened it. Crunchyroll was still open in one of the tabs; he decided to continue watching the show he started.

 

Jim had gotten through two episodes when his doorbell rang. He figured that it was his mother, and that she would let herself in with the key she took. The bell kept ringing. Annoyed, Jim got up to answer the door. He looked through the peephole.

 

It was Roy.

 

Irate, Jim put the chain on the door and opened it. “Roy, why are you here? Go to work.” Roy motioned for Jim to remove the chain. Jim considered leaving Roy outside, but he’d continue knocking and ringing the bell. He didn’t want his neighbors to file any noise complaints against him, even if it was his last day living there. Jim sighed and closed the door briefly to unlock it. He opened it fully and allowed Roy to push past him. He had two shopping bags in his hands. He went to put the contents in the refrigerator while Jim stood awkwardly by the open door.

 

“Roy,” called out Jim from the living room. “What are you doing here man, how did you know where I live?”

 

Roy came back into the living room and shut the door behind Jim. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were injured pretty badly yesterday.” He wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist, pulling him close and  put his chin in the crook of Jim’s neck. Jim wasn’t impressed. He pulled away from Roy. “No seriously. How do you know where I live?”

 

“Were you just cleaning,” asked Roy, deflecting from Jim’s question. Jim sighed. He knew he wasn’t getting an answer. “Yeah,” he answered.

 

“You get the day off and you use it to clean? That’s cute.”

 

“I’m moving tomorrow.”

 

“Why?”

 

Jim sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy, too long hair. He’d need a haircut soon. “My parents want me to move back home. They don’t think I can take care of myself.” Roy’s eyes widened. “Wow, that sucks dude. I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That’s a bit unfair. How old are you? You should be able to live your own live,” said Roy.

 

“I’m twenty-four. And yeah, I agree, but my parents feel differently,” shrugged Jim. Roy felt his heart clinch. That was so unfair to Jim, that his parents could arbitrarily decide how he lived his life. Roy pulled the younger man into another hug, and this time Jim did not fight it.

 

“Can I stay,” asked Roy.

 

“Sure, but it’s gonna count as one of your “dates”.”

 

* * *

 

Jim and Roy sat on Jim’s bed with Jim’s laptop between them. Jim was explaining the show he had been watching to Roy. It had something to do with a girl who fought goblins. Roy didn’t watch anime and didn’t really care. However, Jim looked so animated talking about this show. It was the happiest he had seen the man in a long time. It made Roy himself happy, seeing Jim so relaxed. He couldn’t help but smile.

 

“What are you so happy about,” asked Jim, eyebrow raised. “Nothing, princess,” replied Roy, “I’m just thinking about cute you look when you smile. You should try to do it more often.” Jim laughed and Roy felt his heart soar. “You’re cute all the time though. Happy or sad. You’re just a cutie.” Jim rolled his eyes at Roy’s corny babbling. Roy reached out to pinch Jim’s cheeks. Jim hissed at the action, and that was went Roy noticed they were bruised. Roy shifted his weight so he was laying on his side. He looked Jim deep in his eyes. The initial mirth had worn off and now Jim looked sad and tired, the way he looked for the last couple of weeks.

 

“You know,” Roy started, “you’ve been pretty down since you moved back to Scranton. Is there anything you want to talk about?” Jim’s eyebrows furrowed. “Really? I feel fine. Moving is an adjustment, is all. And now I get to do it again!” Jim flashed Roy a smile that was all teeth. He was lying and they both knew it.

 

“You’ve been sad, Jim. Why? I want to help.” Jim pulled his knees closer to his chest and put his chin on top of his knees. “It’s a lot of things,” Jim confessed, “I just haven’t been feeling too great. I think a lot of it stems from me moving back; I didn’t want to. But I didn’t really feel all that good in Stamford either.”

 

“You didn’t want to come back? Why did you?”

 

“You know why Roy. The Stamford branch closed and they relocated some of us to Scranton.”

 

“Okay, that’s fair. Why didn’t you want to come back? All of your friends are here,” stated Roy.

 

“What friends? I don’t have any, Roy,” said Jim bitterly. Roy moved Jim’s laptop to the floor and scooched closer to Jim on the bed. “I’m your friend,” Roy answered.

 

“Well, you weren’t a friend to come back to. We only started getting close recently.”

 

“Well, you still have the people in your office. Even the guys in the warehouse like you. Darryl asks about you all the time. And then there was your roommate, Mark, right? You had friends outside of work too. And there’s Pam….”

 

“Their nice for the sake of being nice, I don’t think anyone would consider me their actual friend. Mark got a job in Baltimore, and Pam isn’t talking to me.”

 

“Oh. Well, is that why you don’t like DM,” asked Roy. Jim groaned.

 

“Alright, I’ll let you in on a secret. I didn’t think I’d be selling paper after graduating from college. Not that I was expecting anything great per se, since those opportunities don’t seem to exist for our generation,” he said with an eye roll. Roy wasn’t surprised. Jim never mentioned his education to anyone, but Roy still knew. He’d looked through Jim’s Facebook groups when he still had one. He might not have posted about college, but Roy was able to discern his university, major, minor, and even the organizations and frat he had been in based off of his mutuals. Jim didn’t know that though, so he asked anyway. “Oh? You never mentioned going to school! Where did you go?”

 

“UPenn.”

 

“And you graduated at…,” Roy exaggeratedly trailed off. He held up his fingers and pretended to count backwards. “Twenty! You must be super smart! What did you study?” Roy already knew.

 

“Not really. I was home schooled during middle school, so I finished early. And I majored in secondary education and the fine arts.”

 

“Okay. How did you end up at Dunder Mifflin again?”

 

“My parents wanted me to move back home after graduating. When I got back to Scranton I couldn’t find any jobs teaching. I wanted to move elsewhere to see if I could find a job, maybe go to grad school, or maybe do ‘Teach For America’. My parents valued me being at home more than they did me having a career so they disagreed. Said they wouldn’t pay for it if I left. That was totally fine with me though so I started applying to graduate programs in New York City and Boston. I could work while going to school and pay off my own loans. But my parents still weren’t pleased. So, they just never let me leave. They wouldn’t fill out my FAFSA form or anything. It got to the point where I couldn’t even leave the house without being accompanied by my parents. I was a prisoner in my own home!

 

“Well, anyways. I was reading the newspaper one morning and looked through the job listings. I saw a paper company called Dunder Mifflin was hiring, so I applied. I _could_ work if I stayed local, you know. I’d do anything to get outta the house during the day, even if it meant taking a job outside of my field. I got the job, and it paid decently. I’d probably need a roommate, but I was fine with that if it meant that I got to leave. But I couldn’t still! I lived at home the entire first year I worked at Dunder Mifflin. My paychecks didn’t even matter, my parents always bought everything for me. Only once my second year at Dunder Mifflin rolled around did my parents let me leave. They checked in on me twice a week, and I went home once a week. Still, it was better than living at home! They didn’t want me to have too much freedom though. Up until I left for Stamford I was still on my parents phone plan. That way they could track my iPhone if need be. I’m not even apart of the company PPO, I’m still listed as a dependent on their health insurance.” Jim let out a deep breath, like he had been holding this information in his lungs, and it was finally unclogged. “It’s funny though, that I found a job at a paper coming through the paper. _Ha ha ha_!”

 

That was a lot. Despite claiming he knew _everything_ about Jim, Roy hadn’t known this. He knew Jim studied to be a teacher. He was sort of right about why Jim wasn’t teaching; Roy’s older sister taught in the Scranton public school district and said that the budget cuts for the past couple of years had been so severe that they couldn’t afford to hire much needed new teachers. But he didn’t know Jim’s parents actively kept him from professional opportunities. That was just cruel. He could now see why Jim was so desperate to get away from them. It must have hurt his soul to be ordered to return home to people who didn’t really care about you, who just wanted to control you. “Why didn’t you try teaching in Connecticut instead of transferring back,” Roy found himself asking.

 

“I thought about it but my dad probably wouldn’t have let me. He was so excited when he learned that the Stamford branch was closing. A lot of people lost their jobs, but that was okay for him since it meant that I was coming home via a transfer or unemployment. Tragic. He already stayed with me every weekend I lived in Stamford. My parents would’ve moved there full time if they knew I’d land a job there.”

 

 _Wow_ thought Roy. If he were in Jim’s shoe he would’ve made a break for it too. Roy felt pangs of sympathy for the man beside him. He wanted to hold him and never let him go. He wanted to protect him from his crazy family. He want to make him smile all the time again.

 

“Your dad lived with you temporarily while you were in Stamford?”

 

“Yeah,” Jim replied. “He did that while I was college too. Sophomore through senior years.”

 

_Shit._

 

“Well, it seems to me that the root of your problems comes from your parents. Have you talked to any of your siblings about it?”

 

Jim was quiet. He was exhausted from this conversation and he didn’t know why. “I’ve mentioned it to my brothers and sister. They can’t empathize; our parents never treated them this way. My sister is the closest to me in age and she’s ten years older than me. I guess they believe mom and dad more than me. My sister lives in California, and everyone went to undergrad and grad schools out of state. It’s only ever been a problem for me. They think it’s me just being immature.”

 

Roy pulled Jim into a hug. Jim sighed, leaning into Roy’s hug. Jim may have had conflicting feelings for Roy, but being hugged was always nice.They stayed like this for awhile. “Okay,” Jim said, finally pulling away, “enough about me! Tell me more about yourself. Do you have any deep, dark secrets?”

 

Roy rubbed the stubble along his his jaw. “No, not really,” he started. “I was raised in the Pittsburgh area, but went to high school out here. When I was a senior I met Pam who was a freshman at the time. We dated my entire senior year. I decided to enlist in the military after graduation. I served for about three years, and got up to the rank of corporal. I came back stateside and started dating Pam again, who was a senior at this point. We dated for a couple more years, and then I proposed to her. Now I work at Dunder Mifflin in the warehouse with my ex right upstairs.” Jim rolled his eyes. He knew most of this from Pam.

 

“Tell me something different, I just dumped a lot onto you. We’ve gotta make it even!”

 

“Hmm. Try not to be jealous,” said Roy. Jim rolled his eyes again. “While in the military I relations with other men. Not a lot, and not often, but enough that I know what I’m doing,” yawned Roy. He was getting a bit tired, but it was only ten in the morning. Maybe he could convince Jim to take a nap with him.

 

“Did you love any of them,” Jim asked.

 

“No. It was more of a physical thing. I slept with a few women while there too.”

 

“So do you find men attractive?”  


“Yeah, sure,” replied Roy. “Do you?”

 

Jim nodded. “You’re the only man I’ve ever been with,” he muttered. “I’ve thought about it before though. I think I’m bisexual then? I like women too.”

 

“I’ve never really thought about my sexuality,” said Roy. “I guess I’d be bisexual too. I’ll tell you this much, the only man I’ve ever liked in more than a physical way is _you.”_ Jim blushed. “I mean it, Jim. I like you a lot. I get the sense that you don’t see why, but trust me. You’re likable. Lovable.” Roy moved to sweep some of the hair out of Jim’s hair. “I’d do anything for you.”

 

“Don’t say stuff like that Roy, we’re not even together.”

 

“We will be soon. I’ll always wait for you, even if you choose Dwight.”

 

“Isn’t that breaking the contract you made? What happened to the friends zone,” asked Jim.

 

“That’s a provision that applies to Dwight. I know you’ll choose me.”

 

“You don’t know that. You don’t know me the way you think you do.”

 

“I do. Remember at the bar, I told you I know everything about you,” Roy reminded.

 

“That’s weird as hell Roy. Don’t say stuff like that either. Is that how you knew where I lived? With your creepy stalker powers,” Jim asked wiggling his fingers like a magician in Roy’s face.

 

“Yes,” was all that Roy said. He smiled down at Jim. Jim hid his face in his hands. He could feel himself growing redder by the second. Roy was a charmer, that much was certain. However, Roy’s creeper tendencies around Jim was weird and he had to draw a line.

 

“Roy,” Jim started seriously, “If you want to visit me then you have to ask. Don’t just show up uninvited. And at least give the pretense that you _don’t_ know where I live before coming over. Seriously, I don’t recall telling you where I live and I don’t have social media anymore so I’m not sure how you found that out.”

 

“If I asked ahead then you would have said no.”

 

“And I’d be within my right.”

 

“That’s fair,” Roy agreed.

 

Jim sighed and bit his lip. “It’s just that my father found out where I lived when I moved to Stamford. I think he had my phone tracked after I gave them my number. I’m not sure how though…. Either that or he hired a private investigator. Anyway, when he found me he tried to drag me home, and it didn’t go over well. Since then I’ve been a bit nervous that people are following me all the time. Like there are cameras watching me, and not the ones at the office. It doesn’t help knowing that you’re actually following me, so stop that.”

 

Roy felt guilty. He didn’t want to add on to Jim’s anxiety. After hearing his story it was understandable that the younger man would be worried about people following him. “Alright, I will,” he promised.

 

Jim looked worn out. He yawned and Roy found himself copying him. The two sat in a comfortable silence until Jim dozed off. Roy set an alarm on his phone for 12:30 pm when he would get up and make the lunch he had brought for them. Once finished Roy got under the blanket with Jim and drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Roy woke up at 12:30 as planned. He turned off the alarm so it wouldn’t bother the still sleeping Jim. He padded into Jim’s kitchen, rifling through his cabinets for pots and baking sheet. Finding the desired items he sat them on the stovetop before heading to the refrigerator. He pulled out the bags of food he brought: two pounds of salmon, lemons, lemon juice, some garlic, and brown sugar. He checked Jim’s pantry to see if he had any basic seasonings lying around. He managed to find salt, pepper, soy sauce, and olive oil in the pantry, along with a box of macaroni and cheese. It would do.

 

Roy preheated the oven and put a pot of water on the burner. He put aluminum foil onto the baking sheet and placed the salmon on top. He minced the garlic and added it to a mixture of all of the ingredients. He poured the mixture over the salmon and sealed it in the foil. He popped it in the oven and set a timer for twenty minutes.

 

Once done with the salmon Roy turned his attention to the boiling water on the stove. He opened the box of macaroni and cheese and pour the contents of it into the pot. The macaroni boiled while Roy chopped up a lemon for garnish. He sat and fiddled with his phone.

 

He scrolled through his photo album. It contained pictures of him, his family, and his friends. But mostly, it contained pictures of Jim. Some of the pictures had been taken at a distance, from times where Jim had been hanging out with Pam. Some pictures had been taken while Jim was by himself, either at work or in town. He even had a few of Jim out with some of his friends ( _that allegedly don’t exist_ thought Roy). The rest of the pictures he had of Jim had been imported from his Instagram and Facebook before he deactivated them last summer. Roy swiped through the pictures to get a final look at them. He promised Jim that he wouldn’t follow him anymore, and that probably included taking pictures of him without his consent. He began deleting all of photos off of his phone. It would be alright, because he had plenty of time to get new, consensual photos of Jim.

 

The oven timer beeped, alerting Roy to the fact that the salmon was done. The mac looked about finished too. Roy took the salmon out of the oven placed the sheet on the unoccupied burners. He drained the pasta and added the cheesy sauce to them. Roy was rationing their lunch onto two plates when he heard someone at the front door. Roy stood in the middle of the kitchen like a deer caught in headlights. Jim was still asleep in his room, so it couldn’t be him at the door.

 

The door swung open to reveal a petite middle aged woman with pale blonde hair. _Ah_ thought Roy, _it’s Jim’s mother._ Her eyes narrowed at the site of a foreign man in her son’s kitchen. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here,” she screeched. Roy winced at the volume of her voice. He hoped that her yelling hadn’t woken up Jim. Roy must have looked a scoundrel to the uppity woman, with his bruised lip and blue jean outfit. He put on a smile to look less threatening to her.

 

“Hello ma’am, I’m Roy Anderson, one of Jim’s friends,” he said pleasantly. He stuck his hand out to shake her hand. She ignored it.

 

“Where is Jim,” she asked.

 

“He’s asleep right now,” Roy said in reply.

 

Jim’s mother’s eyes narrowed even further, which Roy didn’t think was possible. “Why are you here,” she asked again.

 

“Uhm, I came to check in on Jim. I was there yesterday when he got into that accident, and at the hospital. I just wanted to make sure he was healing well. I thought I’d make him lunch at the very least.” He gestured to the food to prove his point.

 

Jim’s mother continued to glare at Roy. She ran towards Jim’s room and began banging on the door. “Jim wake the fuck up,” she yelled.

 

Jim padded out of his room a minute later. He looked wearily between his mother and Roy. He turned to address her first. “Uh, hi? Didn’t you have to go to work or something?” His mother’s lips tightened into a bitter line; she obviously didn’t like the fact that Jim talked back to her. She settled down.  “What am I doing here? What is he doing here,” she roared. Jim blinked.

 

“...he’s visiting me. In my house. Where I’m allowed to have visitors.”

 

“Why?” _Is she dense_ Roy thought, _I literally told her why I’m here!_

 

“Because he’s my friend, mom.” Jim said.

 

* * *

 

Jim’s mother had come to outline the itinerary of his “big day”. Despite her earlier anger she seemed excited to have her son coming home. So excited she was that she missed the total apathy that painted her son’s face. Jim stared blankly at his mother while she talked, his eyes glazed over. He nodded in reply to her at inopportune times, obviously not following along with what she was actually saying. It was a bit scary, Roy thought, that Jim could retreat into himself so blatantly and have his mother never notice. He didn’t doubt that it happened in the past, and that it would happen more frequently in the future. Jim was so out of it that he hadn’t notice his mother had left until Roy put a plate of food in his hands. “You should eat,” Roy gently chided.

 

Jim sighed and laid his head on his dining room table instead. He just wanted to go back to sleep. He stood and moved towards his room. Roy watched Jim’s retreating figure. Roy finished his lunch and put Jim’s away for later after cleaning up. The door to Jim’s room was still open, so Roy took that as an invitation to allow himself in. Jim was huddled underneath his blankets, laying on his side. His eyes were closed but Roy knew he wasn’t asleep. He laid down beside him.

 

“Hey,” Roy called.

 

“Hi.”

 

“You really don’t want to go, huh?”

 

“No.” Roy hugged Jim.

 

Looking to distract Jim from his own feelings Roy asked, “Didn’t you say you studied art too?”  
  
“Yeah…”

  
“Do you have a portfolio? I remember Pam having one will all of her work in it.” Jim nodded. Before he had the chance to ask to see it Jim rolled out of the bed and left the room. He came back soon after with three black softside portfolios. Roy moved off of the bed so Jim could lay his work out. Jim’s works were mostly paintings, with a few ink drawings and marker based works scattered throughout. His works were of people and nature in bright colors, making use of neons and pastels in ways they didn’t appear in real life. Green skies, purple faces, and pink roads. To Roy’s untrained eye it seemed that Jim had a good technique. Despite the wild colors used his paintings weren’t cartoony at all and looked realistic. One particular painting caught Roy’s attention, one of a woman. Her skin was a pastel green color, with white hair, and pale blue eyes. There were paisley patterns in dark reds and blues in the background, and she wore a simmering gold dress that reminded Roy of a Klimt painting. Even with the fantastical colors and slight distortion, Roy could tell it was a picture of Pam.

 

“Well,” Jim asked. He was searching for some kind of action from Roy, maybe his approval. Roy smiled at Jim. “These are really good! How come you’ve never shown me these before?”

 

“It’s a bit weird to show your friend a painting of his ex-fiancee that was done by the man who harbored a deep crush on her, isn’t it,” joked Jim.

 

“Well, didn’t have to be exactly _this_ painting. But you’re very talented and it’s a shame that you hide that about yourself. This could have been something to bond with Pam over. Did you want to be an art teacher?”

 

“No, I focused in math; I actually minored in that. I was always good at drawing so I thought I’d study that too,” Jim replied.

 

“See, you’re good at math, painting, drawing, teaching, sports, and sales. Stop selling yourself short! I bet everyone at Dunder Mifflin would like to see your work.” Jim shook his head.

 

“It’s rude to boast about yourself. Most of the people at Dunder Mifflin didn’t go to college, let alone an Ivy League. It just comes off as bragging to mention all the skills I learned at some expensive, preppy school. I mean, Andy does it all the time and he’s not very popular.” Jim had actually thought about talking to Pam about his art background, but he didn’t know how to go about it without sounding like a jackass. Especially since he had known her for so long now without mentioning it.

 

Sensing what Jim was thinking, Roy handed the painting over to Jim. “Give her this. I think she’d be understanding of your reasons.”

 

“I still need to apologize to her, I guess this could be a good gift.”

 

“Apologize? For what? You leaving? Because you can do whatever you want, Jim. You don’t need to apologize for that. Unless you mean something else.”

 

“For kissing her, for ruining your relationship. I should have just stayed in my lane and kept my feelings to myself.” Jim shakily said, clutching the painting tightly to his chest. He could feel himself panicking for some reason, and he didn’t know why. This wasn’t a normal reaction, he could tell that much. He was beginning to feel as hopeless as he did during his panic attack yesterday. He just hoped that Roy didn’t notice.

 

“You didn’t ruin our relationship, we did that all by ourselves. Pam likes you, and I do too. Regardless of whether you liked either of us back, we would like you. That put strain on our relationship, _not_ you. As for the kiss, who cares? If anyone should be apologized to its me, and I’m only mad that I’m not the one you kissed. She enjoyed herself.”

 

Jim broke down. “Then why doesn’t she like me anymore?” Jim sunk to the ground and pulled his knees up to his face. Roy walked around the bed and squat down next to Jim. He rubbed the younger man’s back.

 

“I don’t know Jim,” Roy admitted, “maybe she just needs time.” The two sat on the floor for twenty minutes while Jim collected himself. Roy continued rubbing circles into Jim’s back with one hand while playing with his hair with his other hand.

 

“Sorry,” Jim apologized.

 

“Don’t apologize. You can’t help how you’re feeling. I will say this though, you’re harder on yourself than anyone else around you is. I know you think your coworkers don’t like you, or are upset with you, but that’s not true. So even if you can’t help but think that just tell yourself it isn’t true.”

 

Jim looked at Roy. He got up and held a hand out to help Roy up. Once Roy was standing Jim pulled him into a hug. Jim had been hesitant to let Roy in this morning after the last disastrous couple of days, but now he didn’t want the older man to leave. Jim looked over at the digital clock on his nightstand. Roy was looking at the same thing.

 

“Look at the time,” commented Roy. It was approaching 3 pm; Roy had been there all day. “I’m gonna head out soon.”

 

“Thank you for coming to check on me Roy, I really appreciate it,” said Jim, eyes still wet. “Your company’s been nice today, although I feel like I burdened you.”

 

“It’s not a problem Jim, I wanted to come.”

 

“I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you…” Jim trailed off. His portfolios were still on the bed. Jim looked through the one that contained his most recent works. He found an ink drawing he did of Roy a couple of weeks ago when he was bored work. It was done in some red and blue ballpoint pens he had found in his desk, the cheap kind. Still, he liked the way it turned out. He had drawn it on sample card stock they had laying around the office, the thick, textured paper made it feel more legit than the other doodles he’d done at work. He attempted to turn to hand it to Roy, but the other man grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around himself. Roy planted a kiss on Jim’s lips. He kept the kiss chaste, not wanting to scary Jim. He pulled away and observed Jim. The man was red in the face. _How cute_ he thought.

 

“I think that’s payment enough,” said Roy. Jim smiled and put the drawing into to Roy’s hands. Roy looked at the picture and smiled himself.

 

“Hey, this is me! I love it Jim, thank you.”

 

“No problem Roy! Thanks for listening, I talked your ear off today.”

 

“Again, I don’t mind. It was nice learning about stuff I didn’t know about you, even if it wasn’t really anything good…”  


Jim walked Roy to the door. After opening it Roy turned to give Jim another hug. Jim didn’t reciprocate it nor did he shy away. “Drive safely, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jim said instead.

 

“Thanks. And Jim, if you’re ever feeling down just let me know. I come over again; I’ll even use my “dates” on it. I don’t want you to feel that you have to deal with your problems alone. I’m here for you,” said Roy earnestly.

 

“I appreciate it Roy, and will do.”

 

“Oh! Before I go, can I take a picture with you? I don’t have any of us together,” Roy asked. He pulled out his cell phone and looked at Jim, waiting for a reply.

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

Jim stood close to Roy so that he could snap a selfie. He put his face next to Roy’s to fit both of their faces. Roy held his arm up and both smiled into the waiting phone. They looked like a bunch of characters, Roy with his busted lip and Jim with his bruised check and red eyes. Roy loved the photo regardless.

 

“Thank you.” Jim nodded.

 

* * *

 

Jim sat in the living room after Roy left. Jim thought the sentiment behind Roy’s words were nice, but he had slowly come to the realization that he felt bad _all of the time_. He couldn’t bother Roy with that, nor anybody else really, and vowed to better control his emotions. It was embarrassing that Roy saw him having a panic attack today.

 

He did like Roy’s idea about giving Pam a painting as a peace offering though. Even if he didn’t have a big crush on her anymore he couldn’t deny that he missed his friend. He resolved to bring her the painting tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 It was 3:30 pm and Dwight sat bored at his desk. In the morning he followed Michael on a sales call to a local candy factory. Michael, being Michael, found his way into a small vat of melted chocolate, and now Dwight’s seats were covered in it. Luckily his seats were leather and he could wipe them off, but still, it was burdensome. He hoped that things would begin to slow down back at the office, but he was wrong. Jan Levinson came sweeping in from corporate to “talk shop” with Michael in his office. It was obvious that no business talk was about to happen; if anyone wanted to do that then they wouldn’t seek out Michael Scott for it. Instead everyone in the office was subjected to the sounds of the two fucking. Apparently Michael was a one pump chump…. _Jim’s lucky to not be here for this,_ thought Dwight, _although he may have had a funny joke about the situation._

 

Dwight received a text from an unknown number.

 

_-hey_

 

Dwight raised his brow. He didn’t hand out his number to just anyone, you could never know where it would end up. He picked up this phone and opened the message.

 

- _Who is this? I’ll say for the last time that I do not wish to have my credit card debt lowered by your dubious means._

 

 _-?_ He got in return. The message bubble was thinking; whoever it was was sending another text.

 

- _guess who i hung out with today ;)_ read the reply. A feeling of disgust ran through Dwight’s body; it was _Roy._ He sent another text before Dwight got the chance to reply.

 

\- _jim! I got to spend the whooole day with him. That’s better than you’re ever going to do!_

 

He sent a photo too, of him and Jim smiling, faces pressed close together. Roy must have taken the day off to be with Jim. _Why didn’t I think of that_ thought Dwight. _Curse me and my moral obligation to the ethics and code of this office!_ Dwight would need to rectify the situation, and stat. He couldn’t have Roy hanging around Jim, he would surely be a bad influence on the younger man. Instead of replying to Roy he opened his mobile email and sent a brief message to Jim.

 

- _Hello Jim, this is Dwight. Are you free tomorrow evening?_

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very angsty, my apologizes! I tried to add a few cute moments and some light comedy into this chapter, but I not sure if it went well lol! I've changed a few canon things around, like ages but not anything that's super noticeable. You see a bit more of Jim's home life in this chapter and get more background on him and it was a long chapter because of it. Going forward I want to spend more time developing relationships the love triangle, between the rest of the office (namely Pam, Andy, Phyllis, and Michael) and Jim, and Jim's mental health struggles. So far it feels like it's been nothing but exposition lol. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's just hopes that today will be a better day than his last few. He never gets what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't beta read! Let me know if you see any errors!

Jim stared at his ceiling, studying the imaginary patterns in the stucco paint. Roy had left hours ago and Jim was beginning to realize he was bored. He retrieved his laptop off of the floor, desperate for some form of entertainment. He resumed the anime he was watching and resized the window to make it take up only half of the screen. He opened iMessage in the other half of the screen. He had quite a few messages in his inbox; most were from his siblings inquiring about him going back home, while a few were from Karen Filippelli and Andy Bernard. _ That’s different  _ he thought. He shot off replies to his siblings and then looked at the messages from his coworkers. He tried to glean from the message previews what each said; he didn’t want to click them in case either had their read receipts on. 

 

His finger slipped while scrolling down, causing him to click on Andy’s message. “Fuck,” he muttered. He read the message.

 

**Andy** :  _ Hey Big Tuna, you didn’t come into work today. Is everything OK?  _

 

It was nice that Andy was concerned. Jim started to type a reply, but saw Andy’s thought bubble pop up. He must have saw that Jim had read his message.

 

**Andy** :  _ Hey bud  _

 

**Jim** :  _ hey andy. yea I wasnt feeling well today so I stayed home. hopefully nothing interesting happened while I was away. _

 

**Andy** :  _ Jan came and then came, if you know what I mean. _

 

**Andy** _ : By came I mean Jan and Michael had sex in office and everyone heard. _

 

**Andy** _ : Michael also fell into a vat of chocolate today. _

 

“Eww,” Jim cringed. He was so glad to not have witnessed that. Jim toyed with the idea of not replying to Andy, but decided against it. It’d be rude to conclude the conversation before came to a natural end.

 

**Jim** :  _ thats soo gross, glad i missed that! i thought the whole point of the secret affair was so we didnt know.  _

 

**Andy** :  _ Me too. I imagine Jan will be around more in the future. _

 

**Jim** :  _ yuck _

 

Jim studied the messages. He hadn’t really texted anyone since he got back to Scranton besides his family. He cut contact with everyone he knew before so he had gotten a bit rusty at the texting game. He guessed that this was a good point to stop texting Andy, not wanting to bother him further. He opened the message sent by Karen. 

 

**Karen** :  _ Jim! How are you? I miss you so much! _

 

Jim smiled. Karen had been very pleasant to him while he was at the Stamford branch. He figured she’d forget about him after her big move to New York City to work at Staples, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

 

**Jim** :  _ hi karen! ive been fine! hows josh and new york?? _

 

Jim sent the text, minimized iMessage, and continued to watch his show. After about two episodes Jim checked iMessage again. Karen hadn’t replied back, nor had Andy.  _ I guess they’re both busy  _ surmised Jim. Since he was now current on the anime he was watching he moved to google to find something else. He poked around and found something else about goblins, but this one wasn’t a cartoon. He watched the first episode and decided to add it to his watch list. He looked at iMessage again. Still no reply from either. Jim was starting to grow nervous.

 

_ Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered them  _ he thought. _ They were only messaging me to be polite.  _ Maybe Andy hadn’t really wanted to text him. His coworkers probably wanted to know where he was earlier, and Andy was the one who was forced to check up on him. He probably bored him during their brief conversation too. He probably told Karen that Jim was a fuck up in Scranton like he was Stamford and that’s what prompted her to text him. He probably…

 

_ No, they’re just busy is all. I took forever to text them back to begin with. It’s understandable that they’ve moved on to other things.  _

 

He was getting himself worked up over a text message. 

 

Jim exited iMessage altogether and allowed himself to breathe. He was being illogical. Didn’t he purposely try to end his conversation with Andy? He needed to calm down. And Karen was a busy woman in a fast city. Maybe she was still working, or maybe having a night on the town. It wasn’t even 9:00 pm yet. They’d get back to him later, it was fine.

 

He hoped.

 

He opened his email instead and made the window smaller so he could continue watching the show about the goblin fellow and his underage bride. He sorted through a bunch of junk mail until he came across one from Dwight.

 

 **Dwight:** _Hello Jim. This is Dwight. Are you free tomorrow evening?_

 

Jim bit his lip. He wasn’t really sure if he was needed home tomorrow night since his parents hired a moving company. He’d have to go eventually since he’d be living there from now on, but he didn’t have a curfew.  _ I should hang out with Dwight since I did so with Roy, and it’d get more “dates” out of the way  _ he thought. Ten dates each was a lot and Jim was honestly dreading them. The sooner he got them done, the better.

 

**Jim** :  _ hi! im free tomorrow night! also, do you think you could give me a ride to work tomorrow morning? my car is still in the shop lol _

 

Jim sent the message. He resumed the show, but saw from the corner of his eye that Dwight had already replied.  _ He’s fast!  _

 

**Dwight** :  _ Hello Jim. I’m glad to hear it, I have a few things planned for us to do. And I would love to give you a ride tomorrow. What time should I get you, and what’s your address. _

 

Jim smiled and replied back with his address and time. After dwelling over it, he also emailed Dwight his cell phone number. Dwight replied to him via text.

 

**Dwight** :  _ Thank you, Jim. _

 

Jim decided to shower. He connected his laptop to its charger and collected the items he’d need in the bathroom. He took his time in the bathroom, savoring the fact that this would be the last shower he’d ever take in his apartment. He washed his hair and shaved his jaw where a bit of stubble was growing in. Once done Jim returned to his room. He checked his phone to see if Dwight messaged him anything else, but saw both Andy and Karen had returned his texts.

 

**Andy** :  _ Big Tuna! Let’s hang out when you feel better then, okay man? _

 

**Karen** :  _ Work’s okay for now, it was a big adjustment from Dunder Mifflin. But I met a nice guy here! I’ve been seeing him for a couple of weeks now and I really like him. And Josh is good! I barely see him at work, but we’ve hung out a few times outside. I think the increased workload is hitting him more than me. Now, tell me more about you other than “I’m fine”. _

 

Jim was happy that both had replied, but also felt dumb. Why had he reacted the way he did earlier? He wasn’t entitled to nor worth anyone’s time. He needed to get in control of his emotions, and soon. He already had two breakdowns this week, a higher average than he’s had in the couple of months. This behavior wouldn’t fly at home, not without his parents raining down on him for being weak. He needed to do better, but he had to figure out  _ how.  _

 

He answered Andy briefly, saying he’d love to hang out on Sunday. They made plans to try paintball. As for Karen, she and Jim spent the whole night texting.

 

* * *

 

Jim stood outside his apartment waiting for Dwight. He carried his work bag along with his uneaten lunch from yesterday, and six portfolios worth of artwork. He didn’t think his parents would have his art thrown out, but he didn’t trust the movers to handle it carefully. So, he’d just take it with him to work and leave it in Dwight’s car. He hadn’t asked the farmer if he could bum a ride back home after hanging out later, but he hoped the man would say yes.

 

Everything in his bathroom and bedroom were packed up, and the movers would take care of the rest of the house. He wasn’t sure if his mother was coming with the movers to let them in so he left his house key underneath the doormat.

 

Dwight pulled up in his Trans Am promptly at 8:00 am. Dwight parked next to the curb and jumped out to open the door for Jim. He paused when he saw all of Jim’s extra luggage. “What is this?”

 

“Can I leave these in your car? I’m moving today and I didn’t want to leave these to the movers.”

 

“What are they? And are you sure it’s okay for you to go out tonight, you sound busy.”

 

“Uhm, they’re carrying cases for art,” Jim opened the door to the backseat of Dwight’s car and put the portfolios on the floor between the seats. He climbed into the passages seat and allowed Dwight to shut the door behind him. Dwight got back into the car and started away from the curb. 

 

“Art? I didn’t know you drew. And since when were you moving? There’s a lot going on here.”

 

Jim smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, I draw and paint and what not. I even went to school for it although I figured I’d never do anything with it; it was just for fun and to hone my skills. As for moving, my parents ordered me back home after my concussion.”

 

“Wow, okay. I want to see you stuff when we get to the office. And I’m sorry about you having to move home, it’s my fault.” 

 

“No! It’s not. Honestly, it’s mine for having such a soft head,” Jim laughed. “I can show you when we park, but I don’t wanna take the portfolios up to the office. People will ask too many questions if they see them.”

 

“Fair enough. So, how do you plan on getting home,” Dwight asked. Jim made his best attempt to look cute and Dwight laughed at him. “I guess I’m taking you.”

 

“I’d like it if you did.”

 

“So, I know Roy came and visited you yesterday. I’m not going to ask what you did, but I appreciate you allowing me to keep the score even.”

 

“We didn’t do anything bad, I promise. He came over and we watched tv, and then he cooked me lunch,” Jim shook the leftovers for emphasis and Dwight watched him from the corner of his eye. “You didn’t eat it yesterday,” he asked.

 

“No, I wasn’t very hungry yesterday, but I figured it’d be good for lunch!”

 

“What did you guys end up watching?” 

 

“There’s this show called ‘Goblin Slayer’, and we watched a bit of that. Roy didn’t really want to watch, but that’s understandable since we started where I left off the previous night.”

 

“I love that show,” Dwight said excitedly. “I didn’t know you liked anime Jim!” Jim smiled at Dwight. “I do occasionally. I was bored and it seems to be popular on Crunchyroll so I tried it. I’m sad though, since I’m all caught up.”

 

“Wow, I never knew this was something we had in common!” Dwight chattered away telling Jim new anime he should watch. He took note of a few and interjected whenever he had an opinion on a show Dwight recommended. “Have you heard of ‘Goblin’,” asked Jim. “It’s not anime but a Korean tv show? I watched two episodes but I like it so far.”

 

“I’m not a fan of Korean dramas myself, but I will check it out. Maybe we can watch it together?”

 

“Yeah, that sounds great! Maybe we can make a sleepover out of it,” Jim joked. Dwight turned to look at Jim, and smiled at the younger man. “You could stay the night with me, anytime you want,” he said breathily. Jim blushed, something he found himself doing a lot this week.

 

Dwight turned into the Dunder Mifflin parking lot before Jim had the chance to respond, and parked in his regular spot. “Do you still want to see my art,” Jim asked shyly. Outside of Roy Jim had never brought up the topic of his hobby to anyone in the office, not even to Pam. He was a bit nervous to hear what Dwight would say, but also excited. “Yeah, of course,” replied Dwight. Jim reached back and pulled a couple of pieces out of one of the portfolios, and handed them to Dwight. “Be careful not to smudge anything,” warned Jim. 

 

Dwight examined the painting carefully. He liked Jim’s use of color and intricate backgrounds. One particular painting caught his eye. It looked a lot like Pam, but in different, bright colors. “I like them,” he said bashfully, “especially this one of Pam. You should show these to people in the office.”

 

“Thanks man, that means a lot. I’m not ready to show people in the office my work, although I wanna give Pam this painting.”

 

“Why,” Dwight asked wearily. “We’re not adding a third person on to this contact, are we?”

 

“Nope. But I thought it’d be a nice gift. I also want to apologize for leaving so abruptly last year, along with the whole kiss fiasco.”

 

“Moving on with your life isn’t something you should apologize for,” Dwight said, echoing the same sentiment as Roy from the night before. Jim shrugged, still feeling guilty. Thinking about it, Pam wasn’t the only one who deserved an apology from Jim. “Dwight,” he started, “I’m sorry to you too.”

 

“For what?”

 

“All the pranks over the years, that was awful of me and I shouldn’t have done that.” Dwight looked at Jim, who looked pained. He awkwardly slung an arm around the younger man’s shoulder, the center console and head rest preventing him from giving a full hug. 

 

“I didn’t mind. Being honest, I found the pranks to be cute. Annoying, but cute.”

 

“Annoying I get, but why cute?”

 

“It was cute that someone paid so much attention to me that they’d pull so many pranks. I figured at first that you were just bored, but I realized you never pranked anyone else that way. Besides, I egged you on a lot too, to see how you’d react. It was only a matter of time that you’d captivate my attention the way I did yours. And you wonder why I like you, what other reaction were you expecting?”

 

“Resentment,” Jim stated seriously. Dwight just laughed. He held the back of Jim’s head with the hand formerly on his shoulder and leaned over to press his forehead to Jim’s. “Okay, I’ll humor you. If you want to apologize to me, you can do so by giving me a kiss.”

 

Not waiting for a response, Dwight leaned in closer and put his lips on Jim’s. He pressed the tip of his tongue at Jim’s lips, eager to explore the inside of his mouth. Jim complied, and opened his mouth to the intrusion. He wrapped both arms around Dwight and let him take the lead. The two made out for a bit before being interrupted by rapping on the passenger side window.

 

It was Roy.  He opened the door causing Jim to almost fall out. 

 

“I didn’t know you were a fan of French kisses, Jim,” said Roy gruffly. “Had I known that then I’d do it more outside of the context of fucking you.” Jim paled and Dwight narrower his eyes at the intruder. He would throw the fact that he already slept with Jim into his face. 

 

Roy peered into the car and noticed the painting of Pam lying on the dashboard. “Oh, so you’re gonna give it to her?”

 

“...yeah,” Jim looked around awkwardly, as if he had finally noticed the situation he was in with the two men. Jim moves to make his escape, stuffing his lunch into his work bag and grabbing the painting. He gave the two men a wave before disappearing into the building, leaving Roy and Dwight in the empty parking lot.

 

“Why are you here,” asked Dwight. 

 

“I work here you dumb ass,” was Roy’s terse reply. “I hope you enjoyed your little kiss _ freak _ , because you’ll never get farther than that. Not like me.” Roy looked so smug, and it made Dwight want to punch him. Again. But that was a poor lapse of judgement on his part, and he wanted to remain as gentlemanly as possible in Jim’s company, especially if Roy wanted to play the brute. Instead Dwight gathered his belongings and followed Jim into the building.

 

* * *

 

The office had been quiet for a couple hours, which would have been a good thing had Michael Scott not been the boss. Instead the room was stifled with a shared sense of paranoia and wariness. Years of experience taught them that Michael was planning something. 

 

The door to Michael’s office swung open, revealing the manager dressed in nothing but a baby’s diaper and a pair of angel wings. Jim blanched and shared a look with Dwight. This wouldn’t end well for him, he could feel it.

 

“Hey boss, what are you doing? Valentine’s Day was last week,” asked Andy dumbly. Being a recent addition to the office, Andy was still learning that Michael did what he wanted when he wanted.

 

“Well Andy, I’ve decided to play matchmaker for the office! There are  _ so  _ many lovely, single people here at Dunder Mifflin and I think that I should share the love that Jan and I have with all of you. There’s a person for everyone!  _ One  _ person.”

 

“Oh, God,” moaned Kelly, “No, just no, Michael. You can’t just hook up people in the office!” Jim turned to the camera and nodded in agreement. He never thought he’d agree with  _ Kelly  _ of all people.

 

“You need to do a personality test to see who’s compatible!” Welp. That fleeting thought left his head as soon as it entered it.

 

“Great idea Kelly! That’s the initiative we like here at Dunder Mifflin. Quick, while I print up some tests someone round up all the boys down in the warehouse!” Michael shot Jim a wink before walking back into his office and throwing the door close. 

 

Jim felt his stomach drop. He was hoping today would be a better day than his last few, but it wasn’t turning out to be that way. Pam called the warehouse and told them there was an office meeting. Apparently Darryl thought the meeting would be bullshit; Pam seemed to be arguing with him about it. Jim tried stealing a glance, but ended up making direct eye contact with her. He smiled meekly and waved at her. Pam grimaced and shot the camera a look before turning away. Not deterred, Jim gathered up his strength and opened his email. 

 

**Jim:** _ will you meet me in the stairwell during lunch? _

 

He sent it to Pam and waited. He looked over to her and saw her checking the computer. Their eyes met again and Pam nodded.

 

Eventually the warehouse crew filed in as Michael exited his office with a stack of paper. He distributed one to everyone in the office, save for Toby. “C’mon Michael, I don’t get to participate?”

 

“No, you cretin! You will not ruin this harmonious day. Go back to the hell hole from which you climbed!” Toby slunk away.

 

Jim looked at his paper. It was a simple test that asked what someone’s likes, dislikes, and goals were. He began filling it out, starting with his age and job, but stopped when he realized he didn’t have anything he particularly liked at the moment. He liked sports, but haven’t followed anything since the early summer. He liked art, but hadn’t seriously worked on anything since before he moved. He liked eating, but hadn’t had much of an appetite over the last few months. He liked movies but hadn’t seen anything new since last year…

 

Jim duly noted that he lost his drive do anything fun over the summer. He listed them anyways, along with watching tv and sleeping. He loved sleeping, it was the one thing he was certain about.

 

As for his dislikes, he didn’t really have any. He toyed with saying he disliked controlling parents, apathetic siblings, and being alone, but decided against it. He didn’t want to privy Michael to that information. Instead he wrote that he hated the ads on Crunchyroll and Viki; he’d never pay for an account.

 

His goals? That was easy. “Live life the way  _ I  _ want to,” he whispered while writing. He wrote his name at the top and handed it to Michael. Michael studied the sheet for a bit before silently moving on. He collected the test from everyone. He marched back into his office without a word, the loud sound of the slammed door resonating in the quiet office.

 

“Is that it,” Glenn asked after a beat. “Can we get back to work?”

 

* * *

 

Jim sat in the cold stairwell with his lunch and the painting. He was beginning to think that Pam stood him up. He tried not to focus on it, not wanting to get worked up over something trivial like the night before. Instead he concentrated on eating his lunch. He realized he hadn’t eaten since he went to lunch with Dwight two days ago, and even then he had only stolen a couple of fries. That was a long time to go without eating, and Jim didn’t want to collapse from hunger. That would be super embarrassing. However, Jim didn’t feel hungry so eating became a chore for him.

 

As he struggle through eating his salmon and mac and cheese the door to the stairwell opened revealing Pam. “Hi,” she said timidly, walking down and taking a seat on the stair below Jim. “Hi,” he replied in kind.

 

They both sat awkwardly. Jim wasn’t sure what to say if not sorry, but both Roy and Dwight advised against that. Instead he waited for Pam to speak. “How’s your head,” she pointed at the bruise on top of his head. There was a raised bump underneath the purplish bruise, but otherwise it didn’t hurt.

 

“It’s fine, the knot will go away soon enough. Thank you for calling 911, my mom said you contacted them. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

 

“No problem, it’s my job,” she said with a tight smile. “I hope you didn’t mind me calling your parents too, you didn’t have anyone else listed as an emergency contact. I remember you saying you weren’t super fond of them.”

 

“It’s fine. They would have found out anyways,” he shrugged. They sat in silence again. This wasn’t going the way Jim had hoped it would…

 

“What happened back there, Jim? I saw Roy and Dwight fighting outside his car, and you trying to escape. I saw Roy  _ kissing  _ you before you hit that pole.” Jim’s eyes flew open. Fighting? Jim didn’t known that. Roy said their bruises were from trying to stop him from leaving. They both lied to him.

 

Jim looked down at Pam, not having any real explanation for either man’s actions. “I got a concussion during lunch; I went with Dwight and he hit me with a door. It sounds lamer every time I say it.” Pam continued to look up at him patiently. He wasn’t sure what she wanted and looked at her in confusion. She sighed. “What about Roy. Why did he kiss you?”

 

“I don’t remember him doing that,” and he didn’t. He didn’t remember much from the accident.

 

Pam frowned. “Well, he did he.”

 

“Oh, well,” Jim started. He wasn’t sure how to phrase this without upsetting Pam. “We’ve been hanging out lately, and he asked me out on a date the other day? And uhhhh… I said yes?” 

 

Pam’s shoulders sagged. Her facial expression was caught between anger and hurt. “So you’re dating Roy now? Since when do like men?”

 

“No! We’re not dating. Just talking, getting to know one another better. And I guess I always did?” Jim chewed his bottom lip. This really wasn’t going the way he planned. He kind of wanted to escape now, but leaving in the middle of a conversation wasn’t socially acceptable. Pam still looked pissed. “I’m sorry,” he tried.

 

“How could you date Roy after the way he’s treated me, Jim?” Jim had thought about that a lot, and he hadn’t come up with an answer. Roy treated him sweetly, but he probably treated Pam the same in the past. There was no telling when Roy would get tired of Jim and start to shaft him. But, he also believed Roy when he said that his and Pam’s relationship became strained when he came into the picture. Maybe it wouldn’t be like that for them? But he shouldn’t think too far ahead, he wasn’t actually dating Roy, just considering it. “I’m sorry, Pam. I’m not sure why. I li… he’s nice to me, and I guess I just wanted a friend.”

 

This didn’t placate Pam. “I’m your friend, Jim! Did you consider how it’d would make me feel?”

 

“I did! I thought about it a lot but I’m confused.”

 

Pam was getting angrier, fire burning behind her bright blue eyes. “Confused about what? He’s a jackass, Jim! If you’re going to date men, couldn’t you at least make better choices,” she whispered hotly. Jim looked away guiltily. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jim felt he had every reason to apologize, Pam was obviously upset with him now. He wasn’t sure what else to do. He picked up the painting and thrusted it towards the angry woman. Pam recoiled and slapped his hands away, causing the painting to fall down the stairs. 

 

“What the hell… what is this,” Pam asked, moving to retrieve the canvas. “Is this me?”

 

“Yes,” Jim answered honestly. Pam slumped back onto the stairs, no longer having the energy to be mad at Jim. It was a nice painting, colorful, bright, and sweet. No one had given her something so nice before, not even Roy in the years they had been dating. Pam felt her anger come back before dissipating again. She felt wronged for very obvious reasons, but couldn’t bring herself to be mad at Jim for long, she never could. He was much too sweet for that.

 

“Where did you get this Jim, do you know other artists besides me,” Pam asked coyly. “I painted it,” Jim whispered in return. Pam raised an eyebrow and set the painting down gingerly. 

 

“You paint? Why didn’t you tell me!” There was no real heat behind her words.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to come off as elitist and braggy. It was a privilege for me to learn how to paint and what not, and I just didn’t want to throw it in your face.”

 

Pam rolled her eyes but smiled. Jim would never have to worry about that. She didn’t think he was pretentious, or braggy, or anything of the sort. She thought he should be proud of his talents. She clutched the painting close to her chest. She would cherish it forever.

 

“Jim, I’d never hate you for having different opportunities than me. That’s life. I am a bit sad that you didn’t tell me sooner, what a big part of yourself to hide! Have you painted anything recently?”

 

Jim gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Painted, no. That’s the most recent thing I’ve completed, and that was over a year ago. I’ve done some small doodles though.” 

 

“You should paint more! Is there any reason you haven’t?”

 

“I just haven’t been up for it. I thought about starting certain paintings, but never followed through.”

 

Pam sat back and studied Jim. He looked a bit tired, but that was par for the course for him for the past month or so, since he got back. She wondered if Jim was going through something, having a hard time. For all her earlier anger she hadn’t been a good friend to him lately either…

 

“I’m sorry too Jim. I haven’t been a good friend lately. I think I was mad at you for things you couldn’t control.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I was hurt when you transferred; I knew you did it to get away from me. It hurt really bad but I’m sure it hurt you too. And then, what  _ Roy  _ told me… I was mad that he started getting close to you after you came back. I took that out on you instead of him. I’m sure Roy told you what he told me.” Jim nodded. 

 

“I had no right to be so upset at you, especially when you tried to reach out to me. Jim, I’m not going to say that I’m particularly pleased that you’re “getting to know” Roy,” she punctuated with air quotes, “but I can’t stop you. I think you’re making a huge mistake even considering the piece of shit, but I also kind of get it. Roy can be charming when he wants to be. If that’s the only side you’re seeing of him, then well, I pray he continues to only show you that side. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I still care about you after all.” She took Jim’s larger hand into her own. 

 

“Can we...we be friends again? I miss us,” Jim asked after a moment. Pam nodded. 

 

“Yeah, we can.”

 

* * *

 

“Pam the phone rang while you were gone. A lot,” said Angela from behind the reception area. Pam rolled her eyes and ignored the short woman. She walked back to her seat while Jim went to his. She watched Jim and noticed Dwight staring at him. She caught his eye and sent him a small smile; Dwight went back to staring at the now working Jim.

 

Michael opened the door and crept up behind Jim. Jim was so engrossed in his work that he hadn’t noticed the older man. Michael stabbed Jim in the back with a fake, heart tipped arrow.  _ How apt  _ thought Jim when he finally registered Michael’s presence. 

 

“Jimothy! Jimboroonie! I need to talk to you in my office, right now. C’mon.” Jim didn’t ask any questions and followed Michael into his office. He closed the door behind him. It was only him and Michael (and Dave the cameraman, and Brian the boom mic guy, like always). Jim raised an eyebrow at Michael, hoping he’d get to the point, and quickly.

 

“As you know,” started Michael, “I played matchmaker for the office today.” Jim nodded, not sure where this was headed. “As you also know, I am aware of your gay love triangle with Roy Anderson and Dwight.” Jim paled and looked between Dave and Brian. Neither met his eye.

 

“I devised this little matchmaking experiment so that  _ I  _ could help find the best match for you! You know, I’ve always viewed you as my best friend and son, Jim. I want what’s best for you, so we should narrow down which of the two guys you will date and then get gay married to. We can’t have you dating both of them; you don’t seem like the type of guy to be a promiscuous gay.”  _ Wow, this is a lot  _ thought Jim. He felt a bit angry that Michael wanted to make decisions for him; he was getting real sick of people trying to control his life. He sunk down further in the chair.

 

“However, I figured you wanted to make your own decision, you know. Based off of what you wrote,” said Michael as if he read Jim’s mind. He handed Jim two sheets of paper, both the personality test. One Roy’s and one Dwight’s.

 

“You know,  _ I  _ was in a love triangle myself young Jimmy, but you weren’t here for most of it. I know how hard it is to be between two, young lovers who both want to give you their all!” Jim gave the camera an annoyed look. “How’d you deal with,” he asked.

 

“You just have to sit down and make a decision! It was hard, but I chose Jan.”

 

“Really, because I though Carol-” Michael put his hand up to silence Jim. “No,” he said, “I let Carol  _ think  _ she made that decision. Jan was always the one for me.”

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

Jim studied the two tests in his hands. It was like a compatibility cheat sheet. He knew he kind of liked both Dwight and Roy, but it made more sense to pick the one he had the most in common with, right?

 

He looked at Dwight’s first. _Age: 30. Occupation: Assistant Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin Inc, Scranton, PA; Farmer; Volunteer Deputy Sheriff. Likes:_ _Farming (especially for beets), cattle raising, hunting, fishing, hiking, “living off the land”, collecting sci-fi memorabilia, watching sci-fi and fantasy tv shows and movies, role playing, anime, espionage and comic books. Dislike: those who don’t follow rules, the McClarens one farm over (they let their goats roam free, and they get into my beet patches), the ugly, fat, sack of meat downstairs in the warehouse. I believe his name was Roy Anderson (you should fire him Michael, no one wants him here). Goals: To start my own bed and breakfast, perhaps one that is beets themed? And to find a suitable partner._

 

Okay. So he and Dwight didn’t really have anything in common outside of comic books and media habits.  _ But that’s okay _ thought Jim,  _ he’s a nice person! _

 

He looked at Roy’s next.  _ Age: 30. Occupation: Warehouse foreman. Likes: Boxing, MMA fighting, wrestling, watching sports, hiking, working out, swimming, golf, cooking, playing basketball, working on my car, social media, long walks on the beach, and of course, the cutiepie upstairs :). Dislikes: the pointy haired man and his subordinate, competition, laziness, rainy weather, loud noises. Goals: Start a moving company and relocate to Philly. Marry a teacher or an artist, those are hot. _

 

Jim blushed. It seemed Roy knew what Michael was up to. Like with Dwight, Jim didn’t have too much in common with Roy outside of liking sports.  _ He’s really nice though  _ thought Jim. He wasn’t really picky, he just wanted someone who was nice, and both Roy and Dwight were, to him. So he was back at square one.

 

“You still thinking,” asked Michael, uncharacteristically quiet  _ and _ working. Him in his diaper, typing away at the computer in front of him. Any other day and Jim would have laughed. Instead Jim sat silent. Michael sighed and turned towards Jim. “You’re a big boy and can make your own decisions, but I’ll give you my fathery, best friendly input. I think Dwight would be a better match for you. I don’t have a good feeling about that Roy kid.”

 

Jim hadn’t expected that, and wasn’t sure how to respond. It was obvious why Pam, and even Dwight didn’t like Roy. But Michael? Roy was nice! At least publicly. Jim didn’t trust Michael’s judgement on a lot of things, matters of the heart being one of them, but he was curious to know why he prefered Dwight to Roy.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Well, you and Dwight have been flirting back and forth for years now, much more than you and Pam by the way. You just flirt with everyone, don’t you? Keep your hands off of Ryan though, he’s mine! Ha ha ha. But I can just feel the sexual tension between you and Dwight. Roy though, I can’t imagine that would be a good idea. You know he strung Pammy along for years, and then didn’t make it down the aisle with her. Isn’t she your friend? I don’t think I could date my friend’s almost husband. You and Dwight are nerds and nerds should be together. Beside, Dwight is my second in command. I trust him with many things, and you’d be one of them.”

 

“Well, I like them both as of right now. They’re both nice. What I’ll do is get to know them better and then choose someone based off who I like more. I’m suppose to go on ten dates with both of them and choose then.”

 

“You should make your decision as soon as possible. Ten dates is a lot of dates. You don’t want to string them along for too long,” suggested Michael. Jim slid further down into the chair. 

 

“Okay. Final question. How did you know about us,” asked Jim.

 

“We saw them fighting in the parking lot the other day,” Brian chimed in, unimpressed. Dave nodded. It seemed like everyone knew and had an opinion on  Jim’s fucked up love life. “It’d be hard not to piece it together.”

 

* * *

 

Jim exited Michael’s office a bit pale. Dave and Brian followed him out and joined the rest of the production staff, no doubt to talk shit about Jim and his crap critical thinking skills. He sat at his desk and worked, avoiding the stare Dwight sent his way. Dwight tapped his shoulder and Jim turned towards him, peeved. 

 

“What,” Jim bit out. Dwight defensively held his hands up. 

 

“It’s time to go.” Jim looked around and saw everyone had left save for him, Dwight, and a couple of the cameramen, who were more than likely waiting for them to leave. Jim was confused, was it really 5:00 pm? “You’ve been staring at your computer for hours,” explained Dwight. “Are you okay? You spaced out for a really long time. I even called you a few times and got no response,” Dwight’s face was etched with concern. 

 

“It happens sometimes, don’t worry.” The concern didn't leave Dwight's face. Jim looked away.

 

Dwight retrieved his coat from the rack and tossed Jim’s his. “Are you ready for our awesome date,” Dwight said with a wag of his eyebrow. 

 

“Sure, as long as it doesn’t involve me milling wheat at your farm.”

 

“Oh Jim, we couldn’t do that. Harvest has already passed. Now let’s go.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to fit Dwight and Jim's date into this chapter, but I had to split it up. The chapters are getting longer and longer by the second! I'll see you all next update; hopeful Jim can find peace in at least one in chapter hehe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim’s in a weird mood and Dwight’s not sure how to react. Jim feels vindicated, even though he’s wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this chapter isn't beta read. Let me know if you see any glaringly obvious mistakes!

“Can I ask you a question,” asked Dwight as he drove Jim to their date destination. Jim peered into the rear view mirror before shifting his eyes to the side view mirror. He wanted to make sure the production staff didn’t follow them to wherever the hell they were going. It seemed they all knew he was involved with both Roy and Dwight, and Jim wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to take advantage of the situation for the show. “You just did,” he replied distractedly. 

 

Dwight watched Jim from the corner of his eye. The younger man’s mood changed drastically from this morning. Instead of being happy he now seemed skittish and panicked. Dwight wasn’t sure what changed, but he felt that it had something to do with Jim dozing off earlier. “Another one then,” Dwight said. Jim kept his eyes trained on the mirrors of Dwight’s car. 

 

“Shoot.”

 

“What happened in Michael’s office,” Dwight asked. “His little matchmaking scheme was a ploy for him to pick which one of you guys he’d rather see me with,” droned out Jim. Dwight wasn’t sure  _ why _ Michael did the matchmaking activity since nothing came of it. But then nothing Michael did made logical sense, so he could see how in Michael’s warped mind he was helping Jim.

 

“What conclusion did he come to?” Jim didn’t answer, but instead asked, “Why were you and Roy fighting in the parking lot that day?” Dwight paled, not sure how to answer. Jim wasn’t supposed to know that. He didn’t have a good explanation for his behavior then, and he didn’t think he could deflect the question.

 

“Who told you that?”

 

“Pam. And Michael. And some of the production staff members.”

 

“I think Roy thought I was hurting you because he saw you were on the verge of unconsciousness by time we got back to Dunder Mifflin on Wednesday. So he punched me,” Dwight said, purposely leaving out the part where he taunted Roy. “As a man I have every right to defend myself!”

 

“Gross,” Jim replied bitterly. “Don’t ever do something like that again. There’s no reason ever hit someone, especially because you felt your fragile masculinity was challenged. Behavior like that is ugly and toxic, Dwight. It’s not “manly” at all, it just makes you look like an abusive dumb ass. If I hear about the two of you fighting again then I’ll call this whole thing off, and never speak to either of you again.”

 

Dwight kept his eyes trained forward on the road, too embarrassed to look at Jim. He was expecting Jim to be mad, but that wasn't the response he anticipated. He hadn’t realized Jim was so against violence. “Roy will be getting the same spew later I imagine,” Dwight tried.

 

“Yes,” Jim said tersely. Dwight drove in silence.

 

“I want to change the terms of the contract,” Jim said abruptly. He kept his eyes on the side view mirror.

 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Dwight lied. Was this date going so bad that Jim wanted to end the contract? They hadn't even reach their destination yet. Dwight looked at the younger man who was still looking out of the window.  _ He doesn’t even want to  _ look  _ at me!  _ thought Dwight.

 

“I’m thinking five dates for each of you instead of ten. Ten is much too much. Don’t you think that’s just exhausting,” stated Jim. Michael was right, Jim had to admit, that any longer would be stringing them both along. He finally turned his attention towards Dwight. “So this is your first one and Roy already had his. And before you ask, I want to change it because I don’t like the terms of  _ my  _ life being negotiated by someone else, not because you did anything.” Without waiting for a reply Jim took out his phone and texted someone, no doubt Roy to inform him of the changing contract.

 

“Okay. I have another question,” Dwight directed. “Why did you avoid me when you first got back to Scranton?” He had been dying to know this.

 

“You avoided me too, Dwight.”

 

“Because you seemed to hate me. I figured it was because I told you to transfer, but I’m not sure now.”

 

“Being frank, you made me anxious.” said Jim. Dwight flushed. He’d rather go on thinking Jim hated him than know he was sort of afraid of him. “I think it’s because you sometimes have a demeanor that I can’t stand to be around. The macho man demeanor. My dad is like that, like all the time. As are his friends and coworkers I grew up with. It didn’t make for the best time growing up,” Jim said topically. That was the first time Jim ever spoke about his father to Dwight and he wasn't even sure if Jim registered he was telling him this. 

 

“I’ll tone it down then. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” 

 

“You don’t have to change your personality for me, I’ll get over it.”

 

“And you shouldn’t have to change yourself either.”

 

Jim threaded his fingers with Dwight’s, surprising the older man. He rubbed his thumb over Dwight’s knuckles as if he were consoling him. “I’m not nervous right now thought, if you’re wondering.” Dwight blushed.

 

Dwight hit a bout of traffic on the highway. He used the opportunity to check his phone with his free hand. He figured Mose would eventually check in on him. However, the only texts he had were from an unknown number. It had to be Roy. 

 

**Unknown:** _ <screenshot> _

 

**Unknown:** _ <screenshot> _

 

The first text was a screenshot was of Jim telling Roy off about fighting Dwight. He was harsher on Roy than he was on Dwight, seeing as how Roy was the one who initially lied about what happened. The next text was a screenshot of Jim telling Roy he wanted to amend the contract, ASAP. 

 

**Unknown:** _??? _

 

**Unknown:** _ Why would you tell him we fought? You giant dumb ass.  _

 

 **Unknown:** _And now he wants less dates with me because yours is going so poorly_

 

“Dwight, go,” said Jim, squeezing his hand. Traffic was indeed moving again. 

 

“Ask me another question, Dwight. I have one for you.”

 

“Okay. Are you  _ sure  _ you’re alright after that...er…“moment” earlier? You spaced out for  _ hours _ and when you came back to you were...iffy…,” Dwight tried. 

 

“It happens sometimes, when I get super stressed. But it’s nothing to worry about, I have it under control. It’s like I’m meditating, you know? I feel fine now! Just a bit pissed about Michael and what not. That was totally unhelpful, I don’t know what he was thinking. But then again, I never do!”

 

“I’m not sure that should happen at all. Do you want to talk about it? What has you so stressed?”

 

“I’d rather not,” Jim bit out. “I’m going to ask my question now. Do you ever get the feeling people are following you?”

 

Dwight thought that was a bizarre question. “No, I can’t say that I do. Do you feel that way, Jim,” Dwight pressed. “Yeah, sometimes. I know the cameras are following me at work, but I’m not sure if they still follow us outside even when we ask them not to. I’m sure they do.” Yeah, Dwight was now convinced Jim  _ wasn’t  _ okay.

 

“I don’t think the crew follows us anywhere they aren’t invited, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” Jim didn’t seem convinced, his eyes moving between the rear view and side mirror. Dwight finally realized what he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

Dwight and Jim stood outside of a large, boxed shaped building. “An arcade,” Jim asked. Dwight nodded. Jim laced his fingers with Dwight’s and yanked him into the building. Jim moved to buy his own tokens, but Dwight stopped him. He got $30 worth of tokens on preloaded cards for each of them. Dwight was cognitively aware that Jim was still holding his hand. He never initiated contact between the two, and the thought of him doing so made Dwight feel giddy. “Do you want to eat or play first,” he asked. Jim answered by pulling him out into the open area where all the games were. “I haven’t been to an arcade since middle school! Thanks Dwight.” 

 

“What was that, like five years ago?” Jim stuck his tongue out and led Dwight over to a shooting game. They moved about the arcade, trying different games. Jim was a bit rusty at a few of the games, and mostly stuck to shooting and racing games. Dwight tried his luck with games that dispensed tickets, and racked up near eleven thousand from various jackpots. Overall, Jim seemed to be having a good time and Dwight was glad. He was happy to see that Jim was happy and relaxed, especially after the tense car ride over.

 

It didn’t last for long.

 

Jim pressed his body close to Dwight’s, draping his arms across the farmer’s shoulders. He put his head on Dwight’s shoulder and whispered heated in his ear, “I told you they were following us!” He cocked his head in the direction of a family sitting at a high table. Mother and father were singing and clapping to a young child, balloons around them, a candlelit cake in front of them. Dwight looked closer. The father was unrecognizable to him but the mother was an assistant camera operator for the documentary. Dwight remembered that the operator, Zoe, had a nine year old son. They were obviously celebrating the child’s birthday, and not conspiring against them the way Jim seemed to think they were.

 

“It’s Zoe’s son’s birthday. I think they’re just celebrating,” he whispered back to Jim. The younger man held on to him tighter. “You sure,” Jim asked uncertainty. His eyes remained on the family, and Dwight worried that he might confront them. He snaked his arm around Jim’s waist and pulled him away from the game. They settled in the back of the arcade, Dwight contemplating their next move. 

 

“Do you want to look at prizes first, or eat?” Dwight knew that the latter option would put them closer to Zoe and her family, but if Jim saw that she had no ill intent towards him then maybe he’d calm down. He was beginning to get a bit clingy, and while Dwight didn’t mind, he’d  _ never  _ mind, it was uncharacteristic of Jim. He must have been scared if he willingly touched Dwight. 

 

“Let’s eat, I didn’t win any tickets.” Jim re-laced his fingers with Dwight’s and followed him to the front. Dwight directed them in a route that took them far away from Zoe’s table and across the restaurant. Dwight sat in a booth with Jim siding in next to him. They could no longer see her, although Jim repeated tried. 

 

“I thought you didn’t like people sitting next to you,” Dwight said.

 

“I don’t.” Jim put his head on Dwight’s shoulder and looked up at him with his big, hazel eyes. Dwight looked away.

 

“I thought you said I made you nervous.”   
  


“You do.” Jim was looking right at him, but somehow it felt as if he were looking through him. 

 

“Do you want to go somewhere else, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I could take you home.” Dwight really didn’t want to, he was having fun with Jim before he noticed Zoe. The night could be salvaged, and he wanted to get to the bottom of Jim’ paranoia. Jim seemed to think the same. “No. I’m having fun with you.”

 

“I believe you,” Jim continued, “that they’re here for a birthday party. I remember Zoe has that kid she never shuts up about.” Dwight breathed a sigh of relief, it seemed the night  _ was  _ salvageable. The waiter came over with the menus and water. He sneered at the overly affectionate Jim, but the younger man didn’t notice, keeping his eyes on Dwight. The waiter rudely dropped the glasses on the table, spilling a bit of water on it.  _ Homophobe  _ thought Dwight.  _ You’re not getting a tip from me. _

 

“Dwight, remember when I saw I slept with Roy earlier this week?” Dwight remembered, he remembered very well. He didn’t want to think about it. He took a sip of the water in front of him, trying to maintain his composure. He wasn’t sure if Jim were making fun of him, he was a bit of loose cannon at the moment. 

 

“You can have sex with me too, if you wanna.” Dwight sputtered, spilling more water onto the table. That was not what he was expecting. Jim frowned and tried wiping away the water with the sleeve of his baby blue work shirt; Dwight grabbed his arm to stop him. 

 

“What brought this on?” 

 

Jim shrugged. “I just feel like it.” Dwight studied Jim’s face once more. His eyes were looking at his, big and cloudy. 

 

“Did Michael  _ drug _ you?”

 

“I just want to, okay? It’s a yes or no question, Dwight.” That was a far cry from the man who just said Dwight made him feel anxious. Jim’s behavior was beginning to look erratic, and Dwight was starting to think it had something to do with his “meditation session” earlier. As much as he wanted to sleep with Jim, he wouldn’t take advantage of him in this state. But Jim was waiting for an answer. “Maybe,” he said, with no intention of actually sleeping with him. Jim bought it, and seemed placated for the moment. 

 

“Let’s eat elsewhere, I think our waiter was a homophobe.” Jim scooted out of the booth and waited for Dwight to follow. He held his hand out so Dwight could take it. Regardless of whatever was wrong with Jim, Dwight loved all of the affection. He’d be sad to see it go one he got Jim back to normal. It’d be worth it for the sake of both of their sanity. 

 

Dwight tried to drag Jim towards the exit but the man stayed firmly planted in one spot. “It’d be a waste if you didn’t get a prize,” Jim said. He pulled Dwight towards the prize shop, past Zoe’s table. Jim purposely avoided looking at her, but Dwight caught her eye. Zoe silently cheered for Dwight, following it up with kissy faces. Jim was right, it did seem that all of production knew about their love triangle.

 

The pair stepped into the large prize room, still hand in hand. Dwight looked for something he could give Jim; the date might have faltered, but he wanted him to at least have something positive to remember the night by. On the top shelf he saw a giant bear dressed in glasses, a short sleeve button up shirt, and a pocket protector. It reminded Dwight of himself. “Aww, it looks like you,” Jim agreed. Ten thousand tickets. Dwight pulled it down and handed to Jim. “For you,” he said, eliciting a smile from Jim. The bear was half the size of Jim, and a bit wider than him too. He had to hike it up on his hip to keep it from dragging on the ground.

 

“What are you guys doing here?”

 

_ Fuck  _ thought Dwight. The pair turned around and were confronted with Brian. Jim tightened his grip on Dwight’s hand. They felt clammy and Jim inched himself behind Dwight. He was growing anxious, thinking that Brian, and thus the cameras, followed them here.

 

“What are  _ you _ doing here,” Jim hissed. Brian smiled at the pair, noticing their linked hands. “I’m rooting for you,” Brian mouthed to Dwight. He grimaced, this wasn’t the time for encouragements. 

 

Jim let go of Dwight’s hand and ducked out of the prize room, giant stuffed bear still in hand. “Hey,” shouted the teen behind the checkout counter, “you need to pay for that!” Dwight didn’t know whether to chase after Jim or settle his ticket debt. Before he had the chance to decide Brian ran after Jim. “Fuck,” he cursed aloud. He threw his card containing the tickets at the teen’s face and ran after the two.

 

Jim ran through the arcade, desperately trying to flee Brian.  _ I knew they were following me! Dwight lied! Roy lied! _ Jim ran to a corner filled with old school arcade games, unable to escape Brian, who was closing in on him.

 

“Dude, are you okay,” Brian asked. Jim shook the bear in Brian’s face. He looked more like a petulant child than intimidating but Brian held his hands up anyway. Brian got the feeling that he somehow scared Jim, but he wasn’t sure how. He took a tentative step forward causing Jim to take a step back into an arcade game. Jim growled and held the bear up to put distance between the two. He could feel his eyes watering, tears blurring his eyesight. Brian looked on at the sight with pity, maintaining space between him and Jim. Jim still wasn’t pleased, and swung his bear at Brian.

 

“Okay! I’m sorry Jim! What’s wrong?” Jim answered him with another swing of the bear. “Stay the fuck away from me!” Jim tossed the bear at Brian’s face causing him to fall over, and ran around him. He ran straight out of the arcade and into the cold eve. Brian stayed on the ground, in shock that Jim had the audacity to throw a  _ giant stuffed bear _ at him. Zoe, who watched the scene unfold from their table, ran over to Brian. Dwight joined the pair, hoping Jim would still be there. He did a double take when he didn’t see him. 

 

“He ran outside,” said Brian, still confused. He handed Dwight the giant bear and got to his feet. “Will he be alright,” cried Zoe, concerned about Jim’s behavior. She noticed him watching her earlier, but paid him no mind. She figured Jim was just perplexed to see her outside the office. Now she was worried that something else was wrong. She frowned up at Dwight, searching for an answer. 

 

“I hope so,” replied Dwight before chasing after Jim.

 

* * *

 

Dwight deposited the bear in the backseat of his car and began searching for Jim. He found Jim across the large parking lot, sitting in the dirty snow that overlooked a wooded area. His face was buried in his knees and as Dwight drew closer he realized Jim was crying. He sat next to Jim. He didn’t ask Jim if he were alright, they both knew he wasn’t. Instead he wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulder, pulling him close.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispered. “I don’t know why I did that. I just don’t like the fact that they follow us around. I ruined the night.”

 

“I think Brian was here with Zoe. But that doesn’t matter, the night’s not ruined.” If Dwight were to be honest, he did feel the night went poorly, but Jim didn’t need to know that. Dwight doubted he did it on purpose.

 

Jim stood up, and whipped out his phone. “I’m so sorry Dwight. I’ll call an Uber home.”

 

“There’s no reason to do that, I said I’d take you home. I still want to,” Dwight said truthfully.

 

“I embarrassed you. And now everyone’s going to know come Monday morning that I attacked Brian and you were there to see it. They’ll all think we’re strange! I’ll probably get fired and you might too. I think I just ruined your life.”

 

“That’s a reach, Jim. I doubt Brian’s going to tell anyone what happened here tonight since it’s so ridiculous. And everyone already thinks I’m strange, I don’t care.” Dwight took the phone from Jim’s hand and closed the rideshare app. He put the phone in Jim’s front pants pocket and took him by the hand. He led him back to his Trans Am and opened Jim’s door. Jim looked back and saw Brian standing outside the arcade. He waved a meek wave to Jim.

 

“Should I go apologize to him?”

 

“It can wait until Monday, let’s get you home.”

 

“Can I go home with you instead,” whispered Jim. Dwight shook his head sadly, keeping his internal promise of not taking advantage of Jim. Jim sighed and closed the door. Dwight got in and pulled away from the parking lot, noticing Jim checking his mirrors. 

 

* * *

 

Jim didn’t speak for most of the car ride. He was fidgety, touchy everything on Dwight’s dashboard. His eyes darted between the rear view mirror and side mirror; occasionally Jim would turn his entire body to look out of the back window. He still seemed to be under the impression that the production staff was following them. “Where are we going,” asked Dwight, trying to distract Jim. He had let Jim insert the address into his phone, not bothering to see what city it was actually in. “Clarks Green,” replied Jim dejectedly. Dwight raised his eyebrow, that was one of the more affluent areas of Lackawanna County. 

 

“I didn’t know you were from Clarks Green, you always seemed like a city boy,” Dwight joked. Jim didn’t response. Dwight tried again. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do your parents do to live out here?”

 

“My dad owns a construction company based in Scranton, but they do a lot of the newer developments in Philly. And before that he was a profession football player. My mom is on the board of directors for the UPenn, but that doesn’t require much work on her part, so I guess she’s a stay at home mom. I think my grandpa, her dad, was a descendant of a shipping magnet or something.”

 

“Wow, sounds prestigious.”

 

“I know. And all I do is work at a paper company,” Jim sighed.

 

“Earlier you said you went to school for art. Why didn’t you become an artist? You’re really good!” He reached over to grab Jim’s hand. He didn’t pull back, but Dwight wasn’t sure if it were a good sign or not.

 

“I don’t actually want to be an artist, I just do it for fun,” Jim said after a while. “I wanted to be a teacher.”

 

“Why aren’t you one then?” Jim recalled his discussion with Roy the day before. He ended up an emotional wreck and spilling his guts to the older man. He didn’t want to do that again. “Long story short, I couldn’t find a job here teaching and my parents wanted me to stay local. So I got a job at Dunder Mifflin instead.” Dwight sensed there was more of a story there, but he didn’t push for it. Jim already had a hard night, and he didn’t want to make it worst.

 

“Do you have any plans this weekend,” Dwight asked, trying to keep conversation light.

 

“Not tomorrow, I need to unpack my room and get settled. I told Andy that I’d go paintballing with him on Sunday. I should probably cancel.”

 

“No, you should still go! I might do you some good to hang out with people who aren’t me and Roy. You’ve been with us for most of the week.” Dwight gave Jim the name of a paintball park he frequently. Jim entered it into his phone. “I’ll try it.” 

 

They sat in silence once more. “What’s wrong with me,” Jim said suddenly, more to himself than anything. He pressed his palm to his eyes and sat. “What a shitty week this has been.”

 

“You said you had a lot of stress earlier, it may have something to do with that.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“It’s not my place to say, but have you thought about talking to a psychologist? It might help to get to the underlying issue, you know, what’s causing you stress.”

 

“No,” Jim admitted, “I haven’t.” 

 

“I’d look into it. You scared me earlier. Not at the arcade, but at the office. When you shut down for hours.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be, you can’t help it.” Dwight drove past various large houses, all increasing in size. He was amazed, some of the houses took up more land than his farm. 

 

Dwight pulled into the driveway of Jim’s house. It was huge; the road itself stretched for a full mile before Dwight even saw the house. It had to be about ten bedrooms, at least. There was a large foundation in the driveway, although it was off for the winter. Dwight could see a tennis court down a hill overlooking a small lake. It was beautiful. But, thinking back on what Jim told him earlier, he could understand his hesitancy to come back here.

 

Dwight parked in front of the house. Jim moved to get out of the car, but Dwight gripped his hand tighter. “I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but I’m here for you Jim,” Dwight started. “Yeah, tonight could have gone better, but that’s all in the past. Whatever demons you’re fighting, you don’t have to do it alone.” 

 

He leaned over and kissed Jim on the lips. This time, Jim deepened the kiss. Dwight threaded his hands behind Jim’s head, pulling him closer. Jim moaned into Dwight’s mouth, and threw his arms around his shoulders. The two fought for control of the kiss, before Jim let Dwight win. Dwight licked at Jim’s bottom lip before pulling back. Jim gasped. 

 

“I should head in now,” Jim said bashfully. He collected his things and the stuffed bear from the backseat. “You should go get dinner, maybe see a movie; it’s still early. I’m sorry your Friday ended this way.”

 

“I don’t regret it,” and Dwight meant it. He didn’t regret tonight. It could have gone a lot better, sure, but Jim had enjoyed himself at some point in the night, and that itself made everything else worth it. “Will you be needing a ride on Monday,” he asked hopefully.

 

“No, my car should be done tomorrow. Besides, this was a far drive, I’m sorry I made you take it.”

 

“I didn’t mind.”

 

“Goodnight Dwight.” Jim walked up the stairs and let himself in. He gave one final wave before closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Dwight pulled his phone out as soon as he was in the safety of his room at Schrute Farms. He thought about who he should text first before settling on Brian.

 

**Dwight** :  _ Hello Brian, are you okay? _

 

Five minutes passed before he received a reply.

 

**Brian:** _ Yeah man, I’m fine. Is Jim alright?! That was bizarre. _

 

**Brian:** _ Did I do something to him? _

 

Dwight chewed his lip. It wasn’t his business to tell other people about Jim’s problems, he could do that himself. Instead, he replied:

 

**Dwight:** _ Yeah, he got wasted at the bar earlier. You’d think he’d know his limit, but I guess not. _

 

He hoped Brian bought the excuse.

 

**Brian:** _ Aw man, we’ve all been there. Well no worries, it happens to the best of us. I hope your date went well outside of that. ;) _

 

Dwight exited the chat with Brian and selected the one with Roy. He hated talking to the man, but he wanted to see if he could glean more information about Jim’s behavior. He sighed and started a text message.

 

**Dwight:** _ Anderson. _

 

**Dwight:** _ Have you noticed any strange behavior from Jim?  _

 

He set his phone down and went to find himself some food. By time he came back Roy had replied.

 

**Unknown:** _ Perhaps _

 

**Unknown:** _ Your date went left, and now you’re looking for something to blame? Don’t blame poor Jimmy. _

 

**Dwight:** _ This is very serious.  _

 

Dwight watched as the thought bubbles popped up. Roy was torturing him with his slow responses.

  
  


**Unknown:** _ He’s been depressed lately, not eating either. I’m sure you’ve noticed. _

 

He had noticed. He had noticed a while back that Jim didn’t eat as regularly as he should. He’d see the younger man work through his lunch break, or spend it in the break room, hiding from him. Sometimes Jim would put on the pretense of eating, pushing around cold hash browns and egg McMuffins he’d get from McDonalds, but he’d throw the entire thing away, untouched. He even looked skinnier than he had before he left last summer. Dwight hadn’t been sure what to make of it, but now he wondered if had anything to with Jim’s depressive, erratic behavior. He was hesitant to tell Roy about tonight’s events, but felt he had to.

 

**Dwight:** _ Jim attacked Brian, one of the boom mic operators in the office. No real damage was done since he did it with a plush doll. He’s under the assumption that the production staff is stalking him. _

 

**Unknown:** _ Whoaaaaaaa _

 

**Unknown:** _ He told me that yesterday, that he thought people were following him. Did he mention me? _

 

**Dwight:** _??? _

 

**Dwight:** _ Why would he? Are you following him around? _

 

**Unknown:** _ No _

 

Dwight wasn’t convinced.

 

**Unknown:** _ Maybe I should visit him this weekend, to cheer him up. He’ll be alright if you’re just patient with him. _

 

**Dwight:** _ You can’t, he has plans already. He said he was doing paintball with Andy on Sunday, and I think that’s good. He should hang out with other people. I think that, and professional help, will go farther in terms of helping him than just coddling him. _

 

**Unknown:** _ That’s where you’re wrong. He needs someone to take care of him, and I’m more than willing to do so. I’ll handle it. Take care nerd. I’d wish you a nice night, but I don’t actually care. _

 

Dwight stared at the message.  _ How ominous  _ he thought. He wasn’t sure what Roy had planned, but he hoped he wouldn’t agitate Jim any further. He couldn’t possibly, he had no way of knowing where Jim lived. Jim would have a stress free weekend away from both of them.

 

Dwight sighed and took out his laptop. He searched for psychologists in the Scranton area.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor baby :(


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a rough weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't beta read, so let me know if you see any mistakes!

Jim’s room had already been unpacked and organized by time he got home. The upside was that he didn’t need to waste his Saturday putting together his room. The downside was that he knew where nothing was.  _ I’ll figure it out tomorrow. _

 

He sat his portfolios near the workstation in his room. His parents had been fairly supportive of his artistic skills when he was younger, and allowed him both a large work desk in his work and a smaller room elsewhere in the house for a studio. He dropped his work bag off on his desk too, and took the dirty dishes and phone charger out of it. He dragged the giant bear over to his large bed and tossed it on top of it. His pajamas were fortunately already on the bed, saving him the trouble of having to dig through his large closet for it.

 

Jim changed and climbed into bed. He plugged his phone in and turned over, cuddling the giant bear. It was a nice bear, it looked a lot like Dwight. But whenever Jim looked at it he remembered attacking Brian. Why had he done that? _Because Brian wanted to hurt me, that’s why he was there!_ _But if he wanted to hurt me, he’d do it at work, right?_ Jim was thoroughly confused. He wasn't a fan of violence, it reeked of someone using their strength and power to dominate someone else. So he was shocked that he tried fighting Brian. Brian was stronger than Jim, if he wanted hurt him he easily could. _So why was he following me? Maybe he’s toying with me, him and Zoe. They all are!_ It made sense to Jim. They were following him now to intimidate him, and then they would strike later! He figured it out, but he wasn’t sure how to convince others of production’s plan. After all, both Dwight and Roy said he was overreacting. 

 

He’d be safe from people following him here though, that was the only benefit of moving home. No one knew where he lived outside of Dwight, and maybe Roy. He’d never invite anyone over either. Production couldn’t follow him, and they couldn’t kill him; they had security here. Now, he just needed to worry about his parents following him, but hiding from two people plus maybe a handful of staff members was easier to do than hiding from the production crew of twenty people.

 

Jim had gotten himself so worked up that he couldn’t fall asleep. His brain was running at seventy miles a minute and he couldn’t slow it down. He planted his face in the belly of the bear, and began to cry. He eventually fell into a restless sleep, still crying into the bear.

 

* * *

 

Jim woke at 9:00am. It was late by his standards, but he didn’t want to get up. He moved towards his large closet and walked inside. He found something to wear easily enough, everything organized by style and color. New clothes were mixed in with his old ones; he wouldn’t wear them. He didn’t need his parents shopping for him.

 

He grabbed his clothes and walked to the bathroom connected to his room. He showered and quickly changed. Once finished he got back into bed. Since he didn’t need to unpack he would just sleep. 

 

But he couldn’t. His mind couldn’t seem to focus on sleep right now. 

 

Instead Jim looked for his laptop. He left it at home yesterday so it made the journey here via the moving company. He searched for five minutes before he found it in a cabinet with a bunch of game systems he swore he never bought. It looked like another example of his parents getting him things he didn’t want or need. He walked back to his bed and went to Crunchyroll. Goblin Slayer had a new episode, but Jim couldn’t focus on it. Okay. So he moved to Netflix. He tried Queer Eye and made it through half an episode before he got bored. Next he tried the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, but lasted only fifteen minutes. Neo Yokio; another fifteen minutes. Narcos; he didn’t even try. His mind was racing too much to focus on television for too long.

 

Jim got up and went to his workstation. He presumed that his Wacom tablet would be here since he didn’t see it in the electronics cabinet. He opened the top drawer and found it. He plugged it in and attempted to sketch a picture. Everything was ugly. He cleared the tablet again and again, frustrated with the results. He doodled the bear across from him. It didn’t look bad, but it wasn’t good either. He used pink and purple lines to sketch it, and wrote a quick “im sorry” on the bottom in black. He emailed it to Dwight.

 

He was too antsy to draw. He put the tablet back and went to his bookshelf. He didn’t have a lot of fiction, mostly autobiographies and study books. He picked up the study book he used to get his teaching certificate and looked at it disdainfully. _What a waste of a degree._ He pulled all of the books about education and teaching and development and reform off of the shelves. He ripped a page out of one of the books. _That felt_ _cathartic_  he thought. It was like scratching a really bothersome itch. He began ripping the pages out of the books and tossing them around his large room. 

 

_ Useless! Stupid! Wasteful!  _ He wasn’t sure if he were talking about the books, or himself.

 

Jim didn’t stop until he had destroyed about twenty different books. Pages littered his entire room, some intact, while most were ripped into smaller pieces. Chest heaving Jim threw himself back into his bed. He looked at the back cover still in his hands.  _ Printed by Dunder Mifflin Inc, New York City, NY _ it read in small print in the corner.  _ How fucking ironic  _ Jim thought.

 

Jim rested for a bit before moving to pick up the papers. It took him an hour to clean up, much longer than it took to initially destroy the books. It was at this point that Jim realized the gravity of what he’d done. He sat in the middle of the trash heap and began to cry. He stayed like that until he heard a knock at his door.

 

He wiped his eyes and approached the door. He opened it wearily, not sure who it was. “Hello, I have your lunch here,” said a house staff member Jim had never seen before. She held up a tray containing a pressed panini and soup. Jim looked at it with disgusted. “I don’t want it, thanks though,” Jim moved to close the door, but the maid stuck her foot into the crack. “Your father wants you to have this,” she said again, a tight smile painting her pretty features. Jim sighed and asked her to wait. He retrieved dirty dishes from his workstation and exchanged them with the maid for his lunch. Truthfully, Jim was a bit hungry, but he didn’t feel up to eating.

 

He closed the door back and stood in the middle of the room. After a moment Jim opened a set of patio doors that led to a beautiful balcony overlooking the small, frozen lake his house resided on. He tossed the entire tray, food and all, over the balcony and into the wooded area below.

 

He continued to clean up the shredded papers until he was sure he had gotten every piece. His mind was finally tired, from exhaustion or hunger Jim did not know, but he was happy. He finally felt into a peaceful sleep.

 

* * *

 

Roy sat outside the patio that led to Jim’s room. He hid beneath the foliage that covered the massive land outside of his family’s mansion. He had no intention of climbing up and meeting Jim, he had told the younger man that would stop following him. 

 

But.

 

It’d be a lie if he said he wasn’t concerned about Jim after what the freak told him yesterday. He just wanted to check up on him, and that didn’t count as stalking, right?

 

Right.

 

So Roy sat on the frozen ground in a cover of bushes, with a pair of binoculars peering into Jim’s room. He couldn’t see much outside of the times Jim would pace past the open curtains of his patio. He seemed to be reading a book, but the size of it varied each time Jim passed by. Maybe it was one of those books with the hollowed out insides where you could hide secret goods from others, and he was searching for something. Jim was rich, and that seemed like something rich people would do.

 

Time passed before Jim stepped outside, a tray of food in hand. Roy burrowed himself into the bushes further, hoping Jim wouldn’t see him.

 

Jim threw the entire tray into the woods, and stormed back into his room. 

 

After a while Roy removed himself from the bushes.  _ That’s weird,  _ he thought. Jim hadn’t been eating healthily, but he didn’t know he was actively avoiding food now. Either that, or he was having another fit. Roy looked at the patio one last time before setting off in the direction in which he came. He made a mental note to pack Jim a lunch on Monday, and to make sure he ate it.

 

* * *

 

When he woke up next it was 3:00pm. He texted Andy to confirm their plans, and responded to a meme Karen had sent him. He checked his emails, and saw he had one from both Dwight and Pam. He checked Pam’s first.

 

**Pam:** _ I forgot to ask, but what’s your new number Jim! :D _

 

He emailed her his new number, and checked Dwight’s email.

 

**Dwight:** _Hello Jim. I love the drawing, thank you for it. However, there isn’t anything you need to apologize for. Call or text me when you get the chance._

 

Jim sighed, not in the mood to talk to Dwight after yesterday. 

 

Jim got up and exited his room. He walked the route to the living room area of his house. There he found both his mother and father sitting, both reading the newspaper. 

 

“Hey,” he said. His father sat the paper down and patted the open seat next to him. He hesitantly sat next to his father. 

 

“We haven’t seen you all day, Jim. I was starting to believe you had died,” his father laughed. His mother wasn’t as impressed. “Jim, what were you up to in there,” his mother asked, eyes squinted.

 

“Nothing, I didn’t feel like doing anything today,” he lied. “Uhm, have either of you heard anything about my car? I want to take a trip into the city if it’s here.”

 

His mother brightened, and jumped up from her seat across the room. She pulled both Jim and his father up. “Go grab a jacket Jim, I have a surprise for you!”

 

When he came back from his room both of his parents were waiting with their coats. His mother placed his car keys in one of his hands and grabbed the other. She led both men outside. Jim clicked the remote for his car, but heard nothing in return.

 

He tried again. Still nothing.

 

“I don’t believe my car is here,” Jim squinted down at his mother. She snorted. “Try the garage,” she suggested. They walked over to the detached ten car garage. His mother entered the code to the doors and all five shot open. 

 

Each spot was occupied by a car.  _ Why do two people need ten cars  _ Jim thought disdainfully. None of the cars were  _ his _ car. He stopped at the end of the garage; a particular car had caught his eye. 

 

There sat a brand new white G-Wagen. With a big, red ribbon on top. With the customized license plate  _ Jim Jam.  _

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jim cursed under his breath. His mother cackled.

 

“Okay, where is  _ my _ car?”

 

“In a junkyard I presume. I’m not sure where tow trucks take cars once they pick them up.” Jim sunk to the ground. 

 

“Mom, I had a  _ lease  _ on that car. I didn’t own it! You can’t just junk a car that you don’t own!”

 

“Then just pay it off, Jim.”

 

“I cannot afford to pay the car off mom, I owed like nine-thousand dollars.” Jim rolled on his back dramatically. 

 

“Of course you can! Not will the money you make at your job, but with your credit card,” she said referring to the black AmEx Jim never used. He didn’t touch the various credit cards him parents had set up for him, nor did he use the checking, savings, and secret savings accounts they created for him. If he couldn’t pay for something with the money he earned then it wasn’t something he needed. Like a G-Wagen.

 

Jim picked himself off of the ground. “Okay. This car costs way more than the lease  _ and  _ repairs. Like ten times more. You didn’t have to buy it!” 

 

“I feel you deserved a treat Jim,” his mother said empathetically. Jim blinked. He thought coming home had been a  _ punishment _ .

 

“Oh, okay. Well, give her here,” he held his hands up, catching the keys his mother threw his way. Jim was tired even though he woke up twenty minutes ago. He no longer wanted to go for a drive anymore, he was just exhausted of people and wanted to deal with no one at the moment. He turned to walk back to the house.

 

“Will we see you at dinner,” his father’s rough voice called out.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jim didn’t go to dinner.

 

* * *

 

At 7:00pm Jim heard a knock at his door. He opened it, assuming it was the maid from earlier bringing him dinner. He was ready to toss that over the balcony too.

 

There stood his father, holding a tray of food. 

 

“Let me in,” he said and Jim moved out of his way. He sat on his bed and watched his father drag a chair over to be close to him. He set the tray of food down on the nightstand and sat down facing Jim. The two stared at each other.

 

“Is there something I could help you with,” Jim asked. He wanted to go back to moping and pacing about his room in peace.

 

“Did you pay your car off,” his father asked. He did, and he had to use his black card to do so. He hated himself for it. Now he felt as if he were financially dependent on his parents. He couldn’t see himself leaving this house anytime soon.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Good.”

 

“So…,” Jim started at the same his father said “Eat.” Jim stared at him.

 

“I’m not very hungry.” Jim would eat tomorrow, but for now he wanted the hunger so he’d have something other than his thoughts to focus on. It also made him tired, and sleep came easier when he was both mentally and physically tired.

 

“You should be, you haven’t eaten all day.”

 

“I ate lunch earlier,” he lied.

 

Jim’s father grabbed him by the jaw tightly. Jim could already feel the bruises forming. “No, you didn't! Don’t lie to me, I saw you throw it away!” Jim was shocked, he didn’t know how his father would have saw that unless he had been outside. His father released him. Jim picked up the tray and picked at the salad on it. 

 

“Eat the meat,” his father commanded. He stared Jim down, making him feel nervous. Jim cut at the meatloaf and put a small piece in his mouth. Chewing was tiring, and not in the way that hinted at him getting any sleep.

 

“That ER Doctor said you were underweight Jim. Why? Are you anorexic now? Is life so tough for you that you can’t feed yourself properly? What’s the reason boy?!” His father held his eye, and Jim found it hard to look away. “No,” he replied meekly. “I’m not.”

 

“Then why won’t you eat, boy? Why do you throw perfectly good food away?”

 

“Sorry…”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

 

“I-I wasn—.”

 

“Don’t stutter when you talk to me!”

 

“I’m just not hungry,” Jim shouted. His father slapped him. 

 

“Do not raise your voice at me. I’m the man of the house, and you will treat me with respect.” Jim nodded. 

 

“Finish eating,” his father commanded again. This time Jim put big chunks of meat in his mouth and chewed slowly. He didn’t want to be hit again.

 

His father watched him eat the meatloaf, potatoes, and salad on the tray. Jim felt ill but forced himself to continue. Once finished Jim sat the tray on the nightstand beside him. He father made no move to leave. Jim needed him to leave, he wanted to throw up. He was fuller than he’d been in a while, and the shock from being slapped wasn’t helping. He drew his knees to his chest, hoping to stop the nausea.

 

“See, that wasn’t too bad, now was it,” he father said, watching Jim withdraw into himself.

 

“I don’t like hitting you Jim, but sometimes you just don’t listen. Why don’t you listen,” his father asked. 

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I try to do right by you, but you’re just so stubborn. Where did I go wrong,” his father sighed. Jim didn’t answer.

 

“Maybe it’s my fault, I was too easy on you as a child. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His father moved to stroke his hair. Jim let him. His father kissed his forehead and stood up. 

 

“Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow,” His father stated, picking up the empty tray. Jim had no room to argue. He nodded. 

 

“Good. Goodnight, honey.” With that his father left.

 

Once gone Jim puked up the contents of his stomach. He then brushed his teeth and went to bed. 

 

* * *

 

_ A little boy tread through the cruel winter. He was alone, his small, skinny legs moving as best as they could, trying to carry him through high snowfall. He was injured, his limp impeding his ability to run. He had to hide, or else the scary man would get him.  _

 

_ He buried himself under a blanket of snow. It was cold, and he didn’t have a coat on. He hoped that the scary man would soon pass, otherwise he would die in the snow bank, and the little boy didn’t want that. He wanted to get back home to his mommy. _

 

_ He stayed still for as long as he could. When he could no longer hear sounds from above him he dug himself out of the snow bank. It was a mistake; the little boy was greeted by the sight of the scary man, a large grin on his deranged face. He cackled at the little boy and pulled him from the snow by his neck. The little boy struggled to break free, but the lack of air in his throat and the frostbite on his skin were getting to him. He passed out, and the scary man carried him off in the direction from which he had come. _

 

* * *

 

Jim woke up red eyed and with bruises littering his face. He sported purple, finger shaped bruises along his jaw, four on the left side of his face and the thumb on the right side. Underneath the fingerprints was a red bruise where he had been slapped. He still had the bruise from where he hit his head, although it was fading and no longer looked as scary as his newer ones. He wasn’t shocked by his appearance, he bruised very easily. He had enough experience from the few other times his father hit him.

 

Jim thought about the weird dream he had.  _ What was that _ he thought. It unsettled him, and he realized his eyes were red from crying, most likely in his sleep. Jim vowed to never watch horror movies again, because that had to be a scene from a movie, right?

 

He went to breakfast with his parents. He struggled through eating a muffin before his mother took pity on him. He kept it down. 

 

At 11:30 am he left the house and climbed into his G-Wagen. He was to meet Andy at Adventure Paintball at half past noon, but he needed time to figure out how to drive his truck. The controls were much different than that of a compact car. Fifteen minutes later Jim felt he had some idea of how to drive the monstrous car. He pulled out of the garage and out of the gate surrounding his house. He made it to the the paintball park with no issue and ten minutes early. He heard a rap at his window. It was Andy. Jim opened the door and got out.

 

“Is that your car,” asked Andy, clearly shocked. Jim nodded.

 

“How much are you making in commission to afford that thing?”

 

“It was a gift,” Jim said hoping Andy would drop the subject. He didn’t. 

 

“Seriously, Jim, that car costs more than a hundred grand. Who gives gifts like that? My parents wouldn’t even give me something like that!” Jim ran into the building, eager to get away. Andy followed him slowly.

 

The two paid to do one round of paintball; they would figure out the rest of the day after that. Andy stared at the bruises along Jim’s ajaw. From his perspective Jim had  _ always  _ been quiet save for his first few days in Stamford, but this was something different. He was downright distant at work. And now he showed up bruised and battered and teary eyed, in a car Andy had never seen him drive. Was Jim dating some rich millionaire who beat him? It was looking likely.

 

“Did you call the production crew,” Jim asked looking around. He felt paranoid, but not nearly as much as he did on Friday. Still, he pulled the hood up on his coat just in case.

 

“No I didn’t. It’s a bit weird being filmed, dontcha think? I was so surprised when they showed up in Stamford,” laughed Andy. Jim smiled, relaxing a bit. 

 

“Sorry about that, they followed me there. I think they wanted to see how my plot would be resolved.” Andy raised an eyebrow.

 

“What plot?”

 

“Before I moved to Stamford I told Pam I liked her and kissed her. I guess they wanted to film how I handled my rejection,” said Jim bitterly. It made sense to Andy, he hadn’t really seen Jim and Pam interacting.

 

“Are you seeing someone else right now?” Jim shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it. “We should suit up before the game begins, don’t you think?”

 

They put their gear on, and stood off to the side, waiting for their turn. They would be playing one on one; neither Andy nor Jim wanted to deal with other people. Jim smiled; it was nice that he and Andy had a few things in common. Andy was a decent dude when he wasn’t so intrusive or annoying. Unfortunately, Andy was in the mood to be both.

 

“Look Jim. I know we aren’t that close. But if you ever need someone to talk to then let me know. You shouldn’t have to struggle by yourself. And if you ever need a place to crash….” Jim internally screamed. Andy obviously thought he was being beat at home. Well, he was  _ right _ , but it wasn’t a sexual partner of his. 

 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Andy, but I’m fine. I got into a bar fight yesterday. If you think I look bad then you should see the other guy.” He hoped Andy bought that.

 

Andy watched Jim dubiously. “You were bruised on Friday too, your head and your cheeks.” Fuck. So much had happened this weekend that Jim forgot he got slapped around on Wednesday too. Only production, Michael, and Pam knew he had been in an accident, the rest of the office were in the dark. 

 

“I’m a drunk. I get into brawls often.” Andy clearly didn’t buy it. A buzzard went off, signaling it was Jim and Andy’s turn to go. They both stepped out onto the field. Andy immediately shot at Jim, sending specks of bright blue paint his way. Jim smiled and shot back, clipping Andy’s arm with red paint. Jim ran into the woods. He hid from Andy behind a tree, and shot blindly at the way he came. After waiting for a while with no sight of Jim moved deeper into the woods. 

 

Out of the corner of his eye saw something colorful. Assuming it was Andy Jim shot at it before dipping behind a tree. Peering over at his prey Jim saw that it wasn’t Andy, but rather a deer shaped shooting target. It was covered in paint, with Jim’s shot being the newest coat. Despite not being real Jim couldn’t help but noticed how the red dot of paint made it look like a fresh wound. He moved to inspect it, grazing his gloved hand over the red stain. It reminded Jim of...

 

* * *

 

_ The little boy walked as fast as he could, still not able to keep up with the stride of the much larger man. He desperately wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. The scary man already made it clear that he would hurt him if he tried to leave. _

 

_ The scary man stopped in a clearing ahead of him and set up shop. By time the little boy caught up to him the scary man already had his gun set up and was lying on his belly, aiming it into the forest. He pulled the little boy down, causing him to hurt his knees. The wood chips and twigs dug into his bruised knees awkwardly, but he said nothing. He knew better to protest.  _

 

_ “Looky here, baby,” The scary man said. He grabbed the little boy’s head roughly and forced him to look into the rifle scope. He saw what the scary man was talking about. It was a deer, a small doe to be exact. The little boy continued to watch it, transfixed by how beautiful it was. It reminded of Bambi.  _

 

_ “Pull the trigger,” the scary man whispered.  _

 

_ “I c-c-can’t! I’ll kill it,” the little boy whined. He didn’t want to kill the doe, why couldn’t it live too? _

 

_ “Do it, boy _ !  _ Be a  _ man _!” The scary man forcefully grabbed his small hand and put it on the trigger. The scary man’s larger hand covered his own, hurting him, but the little boy remained firm. He wouldn’t pull the trigger. _

 

_ “Do it now,” the scary man bellowed, drawing the attention of the far away deer. Not giving it the chance to run away, the scary man squeezed hard onto his hand which in turn caused him to pull the trigger. The bullet flew out of the gun faster than the little boy could see and hit the deer. After watching it stagger for a bit the doe finally hit the ground. It never got back up. _

 

_ “Congratulations baby! You’re a man now,” the scary man said, picking the little boy up and spinning him around. He planted a big, wet kiss on the little boy’s lips, lingering there for a while. The little boy struggled, not wanting to be held by the scary man. The scary man held the little boy tighter and ran deeper into the forest, until he stood over the deer. He sat the little boy down next to the decreased doe, admiring his handiwork. He pulled out the digital camera he brought will him, and snapped pictures of the dead animal. He then pulled a knife out, causing the little boy to flinch, and began cutting at the doe. He would put whatever he deemed edible into an ice box he brought with them. He smiled down at the mutilated doe, and then at the little boy. His eyes sent a warning: this will be you if you don’t listen to me.  _

 

_ The little boy understood it loud and clear. _

 

* * *

 

Huh. That movie really left an impression on him.

 

Jim stepped away from the target and headed back to the front. Andy obviously hadn’t gotten as deep in the woods as he did. Once Jim exited the woods he could see Andy’s leg sticking out from behind a set of stacked tires. Jim shot at the barricade, making Andy jump. Jim continued to shoot at Andy, raining down on him from his position. When Andy finally noticed from where he was shooting he began shooting paint bullets towards Jim. The two played for thirty minutes more before their time ran out.

 

They cleaned up and checked in their gear. Both of them got back into their cars. Andy was hungry, so Jim decided to follow him to his restaurant of choice. In true Scranton fashion Andy picked Chili’s.

 

“How are you adjusting to Scranton, Andy,” Jim peered over his menu. Andy shifted in his seat and let out a startled chuckle. “I never got the chance to ask,” Jim continued.

 

“It’s been a bit hard actually, but I think I’ve found my niche here.”

 

“Hard? How so?” Andy and Jim placed their orders, Andy getting a steak that was bound to be dry, and Jim a soup that was bound to be burnt. 

 

“Hmm, well. I didn’t know anyone coming here except my old coworkers and they all quit...well I know you! But finding friends outside of work is kinda hard, man. But I decided to play some rec sports at the gym and I’ve met some cool people through those.”

 

“I’m sorry, Andy. I should have been more helpful when you were transitioning here. That was pretty shitty of me. I’m glad you’re making friends though.”

 

“No problem, Big Tuna! You seemed to have a lot on your mind lately too.”

 

“Not really.”

 

“You’ve been a bit distant. And then you show up with weird bruises on your face, and a bit thinner…” Andy bit his lip and Jim rolled his eyes. Apparently  _ everyone _ paid attention to him all the time. 

 

“Actually, I got into a car accident on Wednesday. That’s why my face was injured, I hit my head on the steering wheel, so I took Thursday off. My car was totaled, so that’s why I have a new car.” It was sort of the truth, but Andy still looked skeptical.

 

“So no one is hurting you,” Andy asked slowly.

 

“No.”

 

“Okay, well I thought—,” Andy stopped, censoring himself. Jim raised a brow. “What did you think,” he asked.

 

Andy looked hesitant. “Haha, I thought that you were maybe dating some guy— I don’t judge!— who was harming you. But I guess I was wrong!” Their waitress chose that exact moment to bring their food over, and Andy dug into his platter, trying to avoid Jim’s stare.

 

“No, I’m not dating anyone.”

 

“Well, okay then.” Andy opened his wallet and pulled out a card, and slid it across the table. Jim examined it.

 

“It’s my therapist,” Andy offered.

 

“Why do you think I need this?” He really did, but it didn’t sit well with him that others thought he was crazy too.

 

“Getting into bar fights is not normal, and probably means you’re an alcoholic. He specializes in addictions along with other stuff.” Oh.

 

“Why do you go then, if you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“Anger issues,” Andy said simply. Jim could see that, Andy was a very pleasant man unless he got upset. Unfortunately he got upset quickly, and and took it to the absolute extreme when he did.

 

“Does it help,” Jim found himself asking. Andy nodded. “Yeah, it actually does. I’m learning the steps I need to take in order to tame my anger and beat situations that causes it to flair up.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that, Andy!”

 

“Yeah, I’m glad I went. I,uh, punched a hole in a wall at home I was so upset about something. When I finally calmed down I surveyed the damage and knew I needed help. It’s crazy, because now I couldn’t even tell you what made me so upset. Just that I destroyed my wall. I just don’t want to be at the point of doing that again, so I went to the first guy I found on Google. I’m just happy we fit.”

 

Jim thought that was a mature response. Jim was proud of Andy, his ability to recognize he had a problem, and get help. It made Jim think, that he should take Dwight’s advice and find a psychologist. It seemed so daunting though, and he wasn’t sure how to pay for without his parents’ insurance.

 

“I’m sorry to keep asking the same question Jim, but honestly, where did that car come from?” Jim snorted. He needed to get use to this question, because he’d be hearing it more often.

 

“My parents bought it for me. They have money to blow and this is what they spent it on.” Andy seemed appeased with the answer, happy to know someone else in the office came from money.

 

They made small talk while they finished eating, mostly about the office and films coming out. They agreed to go see the next Hollywood blockbuster together since they had no one else to go with. Andy confided that he had a bit of a crush on  _ Angela  _ which Jim found shocking. He couldn’t deter the other man though, and was resigned to watch it play out.

 

After a brief hug the two went their separate ways. Jim vowed to look up psychologists when he got home. It was time for a change.

 

* * *

 

Jim didn’t get the chance to look up psychologists when he got home. His father was waiting for him in his room, another tray of food in hand. Jim put his coat in the closet, and stood inside for a while, pretending to look for something.

 

His father was on to him. “Come out,” he barked. Jim obeyed. He sat on his bed and watched his father. He picked the tray, not hungry or in the mood to humor his father. He  _ was _ however, in the mood to avoid being yelled at or hit. 

 

“Where did you go today, sweetie,” his father asked lightly. Seeing no point in lying Jim replied, “I went to play paintball with a friend from work. We ate lunch after.” His father snorted, not believing Jim deliberately ate. He felt offended, he was  _ not  _ trying to starve himself. Not most of the time.

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

“Ye-yeah. It was a good time. My friend couldn’t believe I had a Benz, but who could blame him, I can’t believe it either.”

 

“You deserve something that can keep you safe. It’s much better than your old Nissan Ultima.”

 

“...I had a Camry.” They both laughed. Jim made a show of eating his food, which seemed to please his father. Jim forgot at times how nice it was to be around his father, when he wasn’t being completely domineering. Once finished, Jim put the tray on the nightstand. His father picked it up and stood to leave.

 

“From now one can I expect you to come to the dining room and eat with us?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good.” His father turned and left. 

 

Jim got changed for bed. He played with his phone until his eyes felt heavy. Setting his alarm, Jim hoped he wouldn’t have another hellish week. Monday was a new day for a start fresh, and he’d start it by apologizing to Brian. 

  
  


Jim closed his eyes and dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim's going through hell, his stress has him seeing things. D: But at least he realizes he needs help. That's always a good start. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please kudo and comment, thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is so fucking tired of going to work, nothing good ever happens there. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the usual spiel. This chapter hasn't been beta read, so if you see errors lemme know!

Jim got to the office later than usual. He avoided the crew who got to the office early to set up. One PA tried to get him to mic up the moment he stepped into the office, but he stepped around her and went right to his favorite spot.

 

Jim was soon joined by Roy in the break room. He sat down next to Jim and took his hand into his own. “Good morning, princess. How was your weekend?”

 

“Very uneventful,” Jim lied. “I didn’t do much of anything. Hung out with Dwight and Andy though.”

 

“Then what happened to your face?”

 

“Bar fight.”

 

“Wouldn’t you say your weekend was eventful then,” Roy asked with a smile. He touched the bruises on Jim’s face gingerly, fingertips only grazing over the sore spots. He knew the likelihood of Jim getting into a bar fight was low. Jim probably acquired the bruises from his father. “I have something in the office downstairs for bruising, I’ll bring it up at lunchtime.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“What are you doing for lunch later,” Roy asked, dropping his hand from Jim’s face. 

 

“Nothin—,” Jim stopped short, and turned to look outside the window. The PA from earlier was watching Jim and Roy. “These fuckers never quit,” said Jim launching upwards. He knocked his chair backwards, the noise of which startled the PA and made her flee from the annex. Roy grabbed him hand to keep him from chasing after her. Roy sighed and picked up Jim’s chair. Jim sat back down.

 

“Stop, she’s just doing her job,” Roy said. Jim shook his head. “No she’s not,” Jim replied, “I’m not micced up and neither are you.” Jim dramatically looked under the table to see if Roy had a mic on. “She’s just being nosy.”

 

The PA came back a little while later and continued to stare. This time she brought both Brian and Zoe with her. Jim slid under the table, out of sight from Brian. He didn’t need this so early in the day.

 

“Jim, Roy, we’re gonna need you to micced up soon,” said Zoe, voice laced with concern. She held out a lavalier for each of them. Roy stood to collect both. “I’ll help put Jim’s on, don’t you worry,” Roy said with a smile. Zoe reluctantly handed both over to Roy. If she were honest, she didn’t like Roy as a potential boyfriend for Jim, or as a person. But he was treating Jim well at the moment, and she figured he knew about the events of Friday. She turned to leave and took Annie, the poor PA, with her. 

 

“Once you’re done in here Roy you’re needed back in the warehouse,” said Brian haughtily. He didn’t like Roy either. None of the office production team did. But he had personal vested interest in making sure Roy didn’t end up with Jim. He liked Dwight and thought he was the better man despite all his eccentricities. He liked Jim too, having watched him grow from a fresh eyed college grad to the young man he was now. But most of all, he liked Pam, and couldn’t stand to see how Roy hurt her. He wasn’t sure what black magic Roy did to get two genuinely sweet people to like him, but he was going to put an end to it.

 

“Can you leave,” asked Roy, annoyed. Jim still hid from Brian, and didn’t seem like he’d get up until he was gone. Brian sighed. He had freaked the man out so badly on Friday that he was now hiding under tables to avoid him. He took that as his cue to leave.

 

Once gone Jim put the lavalier on himself.  _ I was supposed to apologize to him, not hide! How stupid _ Jim thought. 

 

“What were you saying earlier,” Jim asked Roy. He had finished putting his lavalier on too. 

 

“Do you want to have lunch with me,” Roy asked again. Jim wasn’t hungry but nodded. “Yeah, sure, where?”

 

“I was thinking we could just stay here, I made you something.” Jim nodded again.

 

“Well,” said Roy, “I should head out, see what I’m needed downstairs for.” He pulled Jim into a hug, kissing him on the top of his head. 

 

Jim waved him off.

 

* * *

 

Dwight slid a note over to Jim.  _ Lunch?  _ Jim wrote back  _ Roy already asked. You can join us if you want _ . Dwight read it and nodded. 

 

“What happened to your face, Halpert,” asked Meredith, examining the splotches of bruised skin. Everyone turned to look at him. “It was a bar fight,” Jim replied. He was sticking to this story, dammit. “Ahh yes, I’ve been plenty of bar fights in my lifetime,” Phyllis cryptically stated. She pulled a tube of arnica out of her desk and headed it to Jim. “It should help with the swelling.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Jim tried to concentrate on work, but couldn’t. He had a lot on his mind, like apologizing to Brian, finding a psychologist, the cameras, that weird film...and that before factoring in the office’s sudden interest in him and his life.

 

“You know, I couldn’t help but notice your car wasn’t in the parking lot,” said Oscar, handing Jim an expense report. “But there’s a new Mercedes Benz there. I wonder who it could belong to.”

 

“Do you think that  _ Jim’s  _ car,” Stanley chuckled. Oscar shrugged, “It’s suspicious to say the least.”

 

“It could belong to anyone in the office park,” noted Andy, trying to divert attention away from Jim. Jim internally smiled, Andy was a good friend. “It could be Bob Vance’s?”

 

“It’s not,” mumbled Phyllis. 

 

Michael stepped out of his office. “It’s my car, tada!” He gestured wildly, but everyone ignored him. 

 

“So how’d you do it, Jim? Are you selling drugs, or something else,” Oscar joked. Jim scowled, noticing most of his coworkers stopped what they were doing to watch him. 

 

“It’s something else,” Angela chimed in nastily. “Coming to work with a jacked up face days on end, and now a new car. Obviously his last john liked it a bit rough and left marks on his face.” Angela stepped over to Jim and roughly grabbed his still aching face. “These are  _ fingerprints _ . Someone held his jaw in place, probably while fucking him! How disgusting, maybe if you did your job better you wouldn’t need to prostitute yourself!”

 

_ Huh?  _ thought Jim.

 

The office got quiet, shocked at Angela’s words. Stanley let out an amused laugh, while Ryan smirked and clicked his tongue at Jim. Pam stormed over and roughly removed Angela’s face from Jim’s face. Her talon like fingers were beginning to make the purple bruises yellow under her touch. “Shut up,” Pam said, “the only whore here is you.” Meredith and Phyllis cackled and Angela fumed.

 

“I am not a whore, you are! You’re a whore’s whore! Have fun with AIDS,” Angela bit out. “That’s a large jump in conclusions there, Angela,” Oscar said, uncomfortable with the fact she just implied that Jim would have AIDS from gay sex. He was just joking earlier, but between the downtrodden look on Jim’s face and Angela’s borderline homophobic rant he knew he made a mistake. 

 

Pam slapped her, drawing a shocked gasped from everyone in the office. Angela screeched. “Don’t put your hands on me!” Angela went to grab Pam, but Jim caught her small hand.

 

“Angela, enough,” he said tiredly. She yanked her wrist free. 

 

“Be quiet! You ruined yourself, whore, and now you’ve ruined Pam! You probably had your fun with Pam and are now sneaking around with old men. I wouldn’t be shocked if you fucked her fiancé too, you’re such a slut.” Pam moved to hit her again. Jim grabbed her with his other hand.

 

“Angela, You should worry about yourself, I’m not the one pushing forty with nothing to show for it but a bunch of cats,” said Pam. Angela stared at Pam, shaking. “Don’t talk to me that way.”

 

“You started it,” Pam simply said.

 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar said to Jim.  _ He _ started it. Jim gave him a fake smile. “It’s fine,” he said even though it wasn’t. He wanted to curl up and die, he was so hurt and embarrassed.

  
  


“I’m just going to go outside for a bit,” Jim said to everyone and no one in particular. He discreetly pulled his car keys out, now paranoid of the attention. Michael nodded. Even  _ he  _ was disturbed by the noxious drama. Jim took his mic off and left.

 

“Angela, lets go talk to Toby, okay,” said Michael. “I think corporate should hear about this.”

 

* * *

 

Jim sat in his car, wiping at his leaking eyes as he finished his request for a leave of absence on his phone. He was tired of coming here, no day would be a good one so long as he had to come into work. He asked for three weeks off, hoping that was long enough for him to get his life together. He had no idea what he’d do though. He wouldn’t come here, that was for sure, but he couldn’t stay home all day either. He could travel, but he doubt his parents would let him out of their clutches for long enough. He hit his head on the steering wheel, probably adding to the myriad of bruises already there.

 

He thought back to Angela’s outburst. It was so unexpected to the point Jim found it funny looking back; it was pretty traumatizing while it happened. He chuckled at Angela calling him a whore, he wasn’t sure why she thought that. She had been right about him fucking Pam’s ex though, he’d give her that.  _ And soon, I’ll probably fuck your ex too _ he thought. He became somber when he thought about how some of his coworkers looked at him. Obviously Stanley, Ryan, Kevin, and Meredith thought he did something unsavory to get this truck. He was a bit shocked that they’d think he was a prostitute. They had very low opinions of him, and he didn’t like that. The thought of any of them disliking him bothered him greatly, and caused his eyes to well up again.

 

Jim’s passenger side door opened. He didn’t bother looking, expecting it to be Dwight, or Roy, or maybe Andy or Pam. “Are you alright, sweetie,” called a feminine voice. He turned to see Phyllis climbing into his car. “So this really is your car.” Jim snorted and looked back out his driver’s side window, discreetly trying to dry his eyes. Phyllis buckled herself in.

 

“You should drive, Jimmy, you’ll feel better.”

 

“You just want a go around the block,” Jim said. Phyllis smiled at him. “That’s true, but driving will clear your head.” He didn’t believe her, but started the car. He didn’t want to go back to work, and truthfully, he wanted a bit of company. He thought it’d help starve off the impending panic attack he felt he was about to have. So he pulled out of the lot and onto the open road.

 

“Did your parents buy you this car,” Phyllis asked. Jim nodded, surprised that someone had a more reasonable guess than “did you bang a rich dude”. “How’d you know,” he asked wirily. She patted his arm. “You’re Gerald Halpert’s son, no?”

 

“Yeah, I am. How’d you figure that out?”

 

“I’m a big fan of college football and pro football. Your dad played for Penn State and the Giants; he even won two Superbowls. I’d remember the Halpert name anywhere, he was a good player. It makes sense he’d settle where he was from.” 

 

“Yeah, you got me,” Jim said sheepishly. He was bound to run into someone old enough, or fanatic enough, to remember his father as a football player. He played college ball for four years, after being redshirted his freshman year. He then played for the New York Giants for eleven years. He was injured and instead of waiting a season to come back he decided to just retire. His reasoning was that he wanted to help his wife raise their three children, with one on the way; Jim had been born that same year. And now his father ran a successful construction company and breathed down Jim’s neck every waking moment of his life. What a great life his dad had.

 

“Why not just tell everyone your dad bought you this car, Jim?”

 

“I don’t see how that’s everyone’s business,” he said bitterly. Phyllis hummed. “I guess you're right. It’d save you the accusations of tricking yourself though.”

 

Jim drove around the neighborhood, killing time and trying to fight off the rising panic in his throat. He drove until he couldn’t fight it anymore. “You mind if I pull over for a bit,” he asked. 

 

“No problem, sweetie, go ahead.” Jim stopped on the side of the road and parked. He rested his head against the steering wheel and pressed his hands against his eyes. He breathed heavily, trying to get as much air into his lungs. This was his third or fourth panic attack in a week’s time, and that didn’t even include the meltdowns over the weekend. Something was seriously wrong with him. Phyllis looked at him with concern and rubbed circles into his back. After what felt like an eternity Jim got back up.

 

“I’m sorry, you didn’t need to see that,” Jim said to Phyllis. She waved it away. “It’s no problem, Jim. Are you alright?”

 

He saw no point in lying. Keeping his eyes trained ahead Jim said, “No, not really. I think I’m under a lot of stress. I applied for a leave of absence, hopefully I can start tomorrow or the day after. Don’t tell anyone though.” Jim started to head back, it was almost time for lunch.

 

“I won’t! Do you...do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No, not really,” he replied. Phyllis rubbed his back again. “Can I ask you a question then, Jim.”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Your face, did Roy do that? You’re  _ seeing  _ him right now, right? Is that what’s stressing you out?” Jim turned his neck so fast that he hurt it.  _ How the fuck does everyone know this? _ Jim thought. “Who told you,” he hissed, getting upset. He absolutely could not have anything be private, ever. He was beginning to feel like spectacle that everyone was gawking at, like a roadside freakshow. He couldn’t wait for his leave of absence. 

 

“Bob Vance saw Roy kissing you right before you hit a pole last week. Dwight was there too.” Jim just laughed. Of course people outside the office knew.

 

“No, Roy didn’t do it. He’s nice, although you’re probably gonna say I shouldn’t date him.”

 

“I think you’ll unfortunately make a lot of mistakes since you’re young. But, I also feel that you’re old enough to know what you’re doing. If you want to date Roy, or Dwight, then that’s your prerogative. I’d be more worried about what Pam thinks.” Jim stared at her. Phyllis smiled back at him sheepishly. “If not Roy, then who did it? Was it Dwight? He doesn’t seem the type.”

 

“It was Gerald Halpert,” Jim said. Phyllis looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry to hear that Jim. Do you go home often? Is...there anyway you can avoid seeing him for a while?”

 

“I live at home. Don’t worry, it was a one time thing, I just upset him is all.” Phyllis still looked worried. Jim pulled back into the parking lot of Dunder Mifflin and they both got out. Jim moved to go upstairs, but Phyllis stopped him. She handed him her business card. On the back was her haphazardly written cell phone number.

 

“If you’re ever having any issues, sweetie, just contact me. I’m worried about you. You don’t have to go through these things alone.” With that Phyllis walked into the building, leaving Jim to stare after her. 

 

* * *

 

When Jim came up upstairs he heard arguing. The sound of it made Jim’s head hurt and he thought about turning around and skipping lunch; he could always go without forcing himself to eat.

 

He stood next to reception and saw Michael and arguing with Roy.  _ Fucking shit! _ Jim rolled his eyes. He could already tell what this argument was about.

 

“I do not want you upstairs, in my office, fraternizing with my employees Anderson. Now git!”

 

“Dude, the break room is up here. Can I not take a break now?”

 

“No! No breaks! That’s it, no one in this office gets breaks now! Roy Anderson has ruined it for everyone!” Michael turned to march around the office but stopped when he saw Jim. Roy turned as well.

 

“Jimbo, you’re back! How was your drive in da Benz with Philly Phills,” Michael asked, dramatically looking between him and Roy. If there were still people in the office who didn’t know about Jim, Roy, and Dwight, then Michael was doing his best to clue them in.

 

“Michael, leave Jim’s boyfriend alone,” Kelly joked. Ahh, there was one. Just another eight people to go! 

 

“Yeah, it was great, Phyllis is a great woman. Well, I’m leaving now so I’ll see you all later! Michael, check your email!” Jim grabbed his work bag, turned back the way he came and waited at the elevator. He held the door open while Dwight and Roy made excuses to leave. He was so sick of coming here everyday. Hopefully his leave of absence would be approved soon.

 

“Why is he coming,” was the first thing Roy said when stepping into the elevator. Dwight followed close behind him. “Because I invited him, Roy, god,” replied Jim, testy. He pulled the lavaliers off of Roy and Dwight, mad that they forgot to do it themselves, and dropped them off on Hank’s desk. One fell on the ground and cracked but he didn’t care. They could take it out of his paycheck. He exited the building without another word. 

 

They all piled into Jim’s truck and he drove them to the nearest park. He hoped it wouldn’t be too cold since they all had their coats; Jim just wanted fresh air. The three sat on the first unoccupied bench they could find, the park was a bit crowded with parents taking their kids to the playground across from them. 

 

“Here,” said Roy, putting a Tupperware container into Jim’s hands. Jim opened it and saw broccoli beef with quinoa in place of rice. It looked great but Jim didn’t want to eat it. “Thank you, Roy. It looks great.”

 

“Thanks. It was a hassle to microwave it, apparently I’m not allowed to come upstairs, ever.”

 

Jim took a bite of his food under Roy and Dwight’s watchful eyes. “What was that all about anyways?”

 

“Michael hates me, everyone in your office does. I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Roy grouched. In actuality Roy couldn’t care less about who liked him, he only cared about Jim’s opinion on him, and he knew the younger man liked him. Dwight snorted, and Roy was alerted to the fact that the freak was  _ still  _ here, ruining their date.

 

“What did you expect, you strung Pam along for years, then double down on your engagement to her, and made Jim leave.  _ And then _ you don’t even end up married to her! You’re a perfect jackass, Roy!”

 

“How did I make Jim transfer? Didn’t you keep a file on Jim to blackmail him into transferring? Are you serious?”

 

Jim tuned their arguing out, not in the mood for it. It was his fault, he should have expected it when he invited Dwight. Of course he couldn’t cut corners on these dates.

 

Jim started to people watch. The patronage of the park mostly consisted of stay at home mothers taking their toddlers to the playground, but their were a few others out on their lunch breaks too. One particular man caught Jim’s eye. He was older, older than anyone else in the park. He was facing the playground, but he didn’t seem to have a kid over there. He was just watching them, which wasn’t problematic in itself. Jim didn’t want to make any assumptions, because after all, he too was a grown man sitting in the park during kiddie rush hour. But when Jim looked closer he could see the man holding his phone out, like he was filming something. Jim looked across from the man and saw a little girl playing close by. The man was filming her. Jim  _ really _ didn’t want to make any assumptions, but that was weird. The little girl didn’t acknowledge the man, nor did she seem aware of him. They didn’t know each other. That set alarm bell off in his head. That man was clearly a pedophile, filming kids in the park for later use.

 

Jim moved to get up to confront the man, or maybe tell the girl’s mother when a wave of nausea hit him. Instead, he hunched over a bit and spaced out.

 

* * *

 

_ The little boy was running through the park after being chased by his older sister. He hid from her, laughing. The park was so large! The little boy kept running, further and further away from his sister, until he could no longer hear her. He turned around, he could no longer see her either. _

 

_ He called out for his sister, but she didn’t reply. The little boy was now scared, where had she gone? The little boy kept walking, until he found the sidewalk. He’d be okay! He just had to follow the road back, and then he’d find his sister!  _

 

_ There was a man who sat across from the little boy. He had a big camera, and pointed it at him. The man seemed nice, so the little boy asked him for help. “Mister,” he called. The man didn’t acknowledge him, but instead kept filming him. The little boy waved into the camera, intrigued by it. He danced for a bit and spun around in front of it. The man chuckled and put his camera down, satisfied. He walked over to the little boy and patted his head. The little boy looked up at him, a bit worried. Should the man be so close to him? He wanted to find his sister now. _

 

_ “Did you need help, child,” the man asked, and the little boy decided he was nice! He nodded, and the nice man took him by the hand and led him down the concrete road. Eventually they found his sister, who was red in the face from yelling. Her eyes narrowed at the nice man. “Get away from him,” she screamed and the nice man retreated. She picked the little boy up and ran. _

 

* * *

 

This was getting freaky, Jim decided. Neither Dwight nor Roy noticed he had spaced out, meaning he hadn’t been out for long. The man was still on the park bench, still filming the little girl. Jim tapped Dwight’s shoulder. “Dwight, do you have your police badge with you?” Dwight nodded. Jim pointed to the man, “He’s giving me major creeper vibes. Could you go and check on him?” Dwight didn’t need to be asked twice, he stood up and ran over to the man. He couldn’t hear what was happening from where he was sitting, but Jim saw the man take off running, with Dwight close behind. He hoped he was right about the man’s ill intentions, and that he hadn’t set Dwight loose on an innocent person.

 

“What just happened,” asked Roy. 

 

“That guy seemed sketchy, he was filming a little girl. I dunno, it gave me a bad feeling.” Jim saw Dwight talking to the girl’s mother; it seemed she didn’t know the man or that he was filming her daughter. He came back over to them and sat down. Roy and Dwight finished their lunches, while Jim struggled through his. Jim was preoccupied with the memory of that movie, it was weird, but seemingly applicable to everything. He racked his brain for the film title, but couldn’t come up with anything. When had he watched this? For the life of him he could not remember watching something like this. Maybe the scenes were from different movies? Maybe he had seen a snuff film by accident, repressed it, and now it was seeping through his memories! God, he hoped it wasn’t the latter.

 

“Jim, are you okay,” Dwight called. Jim nodded at him, still deep in thought. “Have you looked for a psychologist,” Dwight asked. Roy raised a brow. “You’re looking for a psyche? Why?”

 

“I  _ really _ need it. I’ve been struggling since before I moved back to Scranton, and this hectic week hasn’t been helping. I’m sure you already know—since you know everything for some reason—that I attacked Brian on Friday. I still need to apologize to him.” Jim sighed.  _ What a mess my life is. _

 

“What do you think is wrong with you,” Roy questioned. He had thoughts about Jim’s mental state, but wanted to hear his idea first. “I’m thinking situational depression,” Jim said embarrassed. It was hard to admit, but he couldn’t get help if he didn’t. 

 

“You have panic attacks often, that’s a sign of something more serious, like full blown depression. You don’t eat regularly, have low self esteem, and a desperate need for approval.It doesn’t seem situational at all,” Roy chimed in. Jim felt really embarrassed now.

 

“And anxiety, you told me you were afraid of me. Paranoia too, you swear the production crew is following you,” said Dwight. Jim grimaced. “Is this the “drag Jim hour”? It’s probably just stress and situational depression. Hopefully they’ll put me on Prozac or whatever and it’ll go away. Besides, I’m not paranoid. They  _ were _ following me, why else was Brian there? I’m justified in thinking that!”

 

“He was there for Zoe’s son’s birthday, Jim! He’s not stalking you, none of them are! I don’t know why you think that,” sighed Dwight. Jim looked unconvinced, even when presented with facts. Dwight caught Roy’s eye. They were thinking the same thing: Jim was definitely paranoid.

 

“Jim, I think I found someone you could go to.” Dwight handed him a phone number he scribbled down; Jim was a bit touched. Dwight didn’t need to do that for him. He took out his phone and called the number. A receptionist answered and Jim made an appointment for Wednesday, the soonest he could come in.

 

“Wednesday? Are you skipping work,” asked Roy. 

 

“I applied for a leave of absence, so hopefully I don’t have to come in tomorrow, or for the next three weeks.” Dwight and Roy looked at each other again, both wary.

 

“When did you apply for this,” Dwight asked.

 

“Today, after Angela verbally attacked me. Dwight, as of tomorrow you are the new Assistant Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin, Scranton. Congratulations. With great power comes great—.” 

 

“What,” Roy interrupted incredulously. “What happened?”

 

“Everyone was prodding at me about my bruises and the new car, and Angela went off on a tangent about how I was a prostitute who gave Pam AIDS. She even accused me of fucking you, although she was right about that.” Dwight cringed at that.

 

“What the fuck, is she okay,” asked Roy. He always thought Angela was a bitch, but that seemed a bit extreme for a woman who valued following company policy. 

 

“Yeah, Pam slapped her too. I left after that so I’m not sure what she’s up to now.”

 

“Michael wrote her up,” Dwight supplied. He was a bit worried about Angela too. While they weren’t dating anyone Dwight was still concerned about her wellbeing, she had her share of issues too. “I think she’ll be put on a leave of absence too, but an unpaid one.”

 

“Good, she deserves that, does she not think before she speaks,” asked Roy. Jim shook his head. “I think it’s an overkill. I’m a big boy, I’ll be alright. I’m already over it! I’ve done meaner things at the office and was never put on unpaid leave. I’ll email Michael about it later.” Honestly, Jim was still greatly hurt over by it, but he’d get over it, eventually. Maybe.

 

“What “mean things”,” asked Dwight. “You know, me pranking you,” replied Jim. “You had to put up with me for years and never have I once been in trouble. Angela screams at me once and she’s suspended? She’s screamed at Phyllis and Pam before and nothing happened. What makes me so special?”

 

“Well, Michael likes you,” quipped Roy. Jim raised an eyebrow while Dwight nodded. “No, he likes Ryan.”

 

Roy snorted. “No, not like that. He values you a lot, you’re like his top confidant. He loves you.”

 

“I feel like that’s Dwight.” Dwight shook his head.

 

“He likes you way more than he likes me, he thinks you’re cool.”

 

“Uhh, I’m not cool at all, in fact I’m kind of lame. I think you both are wrong.”

 

“That’s why he yelled at me today, Jim,” explained Roy. “He doesn’t like the fact I’m dating his golden child and is now trying to keep me away from you by banning me from the office. Which isn’t right because the microwave in the warehouse doesn’t work! But he treats you like a son, someone he needs to protect.” Jim shuttered at the thought of Michael protecting him from anything. If anything it was more likely that Jim had to protect Michael from himself.

 

Dwight just looked smug. This confirmed to him that Michael thought he was the better fit for Jim.

 

The three walked back to Jim’s truck. Roy fake yawned and put his arm around Jim’s shoulder. Jim shrugged him off immediately. “Why did your parents buy this. Not that I mind, you look very cute in this giant truck,” said Roy, stopping to take a picture of Jim climbing in his oversized truck. Despite him being six foot two it made Jim look small.

 

“I honestly think they didn’t want to go through the hassle of having my old car fixed. Somehow buying a new one was easier.”

 

“That’s a problem only rich people would have. It must be nice,” commented Dwight.

 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

* * *

 

Jim dropped Roy and Dwight off at the office, fully intending to go home. However, Brian was standing outside of the entrance, taking a smoke break. Jim sighed and parked his truck. He got out and walked over to Brian.

 

“Hey,” Jim said awkwardly. 

 

“Hey, how are you?”

 

“Uhh, I’m fine.” Brian looked at Jim like he didn’t believe him. “I’m sorry about this morning, it was rude of me to try to hide from you. Actually...I’m sorry about Friday too, I was out of line to attack you. I don’t know what came over me, I’m so sorry!”

 

“It’s no big deal, Dwight told me you were drunk off your ass. I’m a confrontational drunk too, which is why I try not to drink too much. It’s kinda funny looking back on it, you threw a giant bear at me!” Jim blinked. It was nice of Dwight to come up with an excuse for him, it even worked well with his excuse for his bruises. However, Jim looked like a total lush now.

 

“Yeah, I was totally wasted. But still, that doesn’t excuse my behavior. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

 

“Well,” Brian said slowly, “you said you got into a bar fight this weekend, I’m assuming after the arcade incident. It’s not my place to say but...maybe you should seek out help? For uhh... alcoholism? It’s up to you though, no pressure. It may help to prevent such incidents from happening in the future.” Jim nodded along hesitantly. He was being scolded, he knew, but he deserved it. He was sure Brian didn’t believe he was an alcoholic and playing along with Jim’s convoluted excuse. His talk reeked of coded language. He obviously thought Jim was just crazy. 

 

Brian reached up to pat Jim’s head like he was a child. “Um, right. I’ll look into it,” Jim said, now done with this conversation. He got back into his truck. As he pulled off he stopped in front of Brian, who was putting out his cigarette butt. 

 

“Hey Brian,” Jim called. “Could you do me a favor too?”

 

“Sure, what is it?” 

 

Jim narrowed his eyes. “Stop following me!” He drove off. 

 

Brian looked at the retreating truck in confusion. “What?” Confused, he went back into the building.

 

* * *

 

When Jim arrived home he put his work bag in his room and changed out of his work clothes. He fiddled with his laptop for a bit, sending Michael an email about Angela’s suspension. He then journaled all of the scenes from movie(s) he’d seen, hoping to one day figure out what it was from. After laying in bed for an hour Jim decided to walk around the house, hoping enough laps would tire him out. He walked from the wing he resided in to the opposite side of the large house, where his parents’ room was. Along the way Jim could hear sounds coming from their home theater.  _ Mom must be watching something _ . He weighed his options on going in, but figured he had nothing better to do. He went in.

 

His mother sat in the middle of the room, eyes focused on the screen. Jim sat in the seat directly behind her, and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “boo.” She flinched, not realizing someone had joined her. “Jim, shouldn’t you be at that job of yours,” she asked. He shrugged although she couldn’t see it in the darkness. “I left early.” He omitted that he took a leave of absence, maybe then he could get away with going some place else everyday if his parents were under the impression he was still going to work.

 

Jim looked up at the screen, his mother was watching  _ Get Out _ . “I loved this movie,” he whispered. “I haven’t seen it yet,” his mother replied tersely. Jim sat quiet and watched it with her. They made it to the part where Missy tried hypnotizing Chris. Jim’s mother paused the movie right there and turned on the lights. Jim looked at her quizzically. “What’s wrong,” he asked. 

 

“She has the power to help him, but instead manipulated his emotions.”

 

“What?”

 

“That woman, the girl’s mother. She could have helped that poor boy get over the trauma of his youth, but instead she send to that hell of a place.”

 

“You should finish the movie? It’d make a lot more sense later.” Jim was confused that his mother found that scene traumatizing. It was a horror movie, obviously the mother wasn’t trying to help him! But his mother took it personally. She grabbed all of her things and stood to leave. 

 

“Can we expect you at dinner later,” she stated. Jim didn’t want to go, he was still stuffed to the point of sickness from lunch. “I’m kind of tired, I just wanted to see what you were up to. I’ll probably sleep through dinner, so don’t wait up for me.” His mother didn’t argue and left the theater, turning off the lights as she went. Jim sat in the dark room by himself.

 

“What the fuck was that about?”

 

* * *

 

The first thing Jim did once he got back to his room was check his laptop. Jim had gotten a response back from both Michael and corporate. Michael informed him that Angela’s suspension was now out of his hands, and that she’d spend the rest of the week at home, without pay. Jim thought about what Roy and Dwight had said earlier, that Michael viewed him as his child. He had gotten a grown woman suspended from work because he was a bit overly sensitive. It didn’t seem fair.

 

He checked the email from corporate. They approved his leave of absence, and starting tomorrow he had a paid three week vacation from Dunder Mifflin. Jim drifted off to sleep, thinking of ways to spend his break without alerting his parents to the fact that he wouldn’t be at work.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are one step closer to figuring out what's wrong with Jim. Any guesses?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finally sees a psychologist, and is displeased with his diagnosis. He begins to question those around him he can trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was not beta read, let me know if you see any mistakes.

Jim was looking forward to his psyche appointment in a few minutes. He hoped she’d agree that his symptoms seemed like situational or seasonal depression and give him an antidepressant so he could be on his way. He’d do the talking thing too, so he could get his feelings out and heal quicker. He wanted this hellish season to be over, and hopefully it would only take three to five sessions to do so. He filled out the preliminary paperwork the receptionist gave him where he listened any signs or symptoms he was having. He checked his phone and saw that Dwight sent him lists of symptoms he thought Jim exhibited to tell the doctor.

 

**Dwight:** _ Remember to tell her these symptoms: paranoia, eating issues, depression, lack of joy in doing things you use to do, apologizing a lot, spacing out for hours at a time, attacking people, inability to trust those around you, anxiety, mood changes, social withdrawal, sleeping a lot.  _

 

Wow. It was always nice to find out how people really saw you. Jim ignored the text and put his phone away. The psychologist, Dr. Padukone, came out into the lobby and took the paperwork from Jim. She ushered him back into her office. She sat down in her chair, with Jim taking the seat across from her. 

 

“Thanks for coming today James, this is a big step. I’m going to ask you some questions just to get a better sense of what’s going on with you. Hopefully by the end of today’s session I can give you a diagnosis and refer you to a psychiatrist for medication, if that’s needed. Is there anything you want to tell me before we begin?” Jim shook his head. 

 

“Alrighty. Why exactly did you come in today, James?” Dr. Padukone pulled out a clipboard to begin taking notes on. She watched Jim patiently.

 

“Uh, you can call me Jim. I’ve been stressed out for a while now and I think it’s causing me to have depression, the situational type.” She implored him to continue. “There was this girl I liked at work, and I confessed to her. To not make things awkward between us I transferred back in June. But it got kind of hectic because my parents didn’t take kindly to me transferring and they tracked me down. So I had my family breathing down my neck for the entire time I was there, plus I just hated where I was at. It felt awkward, like they didn’t like me and I didn’t fit in. I didn’t know anyone there and it’s hard to build new relationships when your dad is your roommate. Anyways, the branch I transferred to got shut down after Thanksgiving and I was transferred to Scranton right before Christmas.” Jim paused and waited for her to prompt him to say more. She did.

 

“So I’m back at this dead end job I really don’t want to do, and I’m back in the vicinity of my parents who I was frankly looking forward to being away from. It’s awkward as fuck between me and the girl I confessed to which sucks because she was one of my only friends in the office. Well, in the whole city at that point because I changed my phone number before I left, and lost contact with my other friends.” Dr. Padukone looked shocked at this but Jim clarified, “I wanted a new start. I think they’re fine, I was annoying and didn’t like going out with them all of the time. I was a boring drag so they should be better off without me.” She didn’t know where to begin with that so she jolted down a note to come back to it and asked Jim to continue. 

 

“I come back and I have to deal with all of this additional stress because I got made assistant regional manager of this branch, and the actual manager managed to scare off three of the four people I transferred with, so I’m now taking on their workload. I’m doing the work of  _ four _ people, in addition to my job as assistant regional manager. When we merged branches we took on all of the clients from the other branch so there’s just a shit ton of people I have to deal with at any moment, and the manager is of no help. In fact, I have to go in behind him and clean up any mistakes he makes, which happens a lot. There’s a commission cap on my pay too, so it’s not like I’m making extra money from taking on these extra responsibilities.

 

“So I made one friend in the office, who happens to be the ex fiancé of the girl I kissed; they apparently broke up after I left. It’s fine, this isn’t initially stressful outside of him talking at me sometimes. But last week he confessed to me that he liked me and tanked his own engagement to get with me.” Jim let out a deep breathe, and took a sip of the water bottle the receptionist gave him when he came in. Dr. Padukone furiously scribbled on her clipboard. Jim didn’t take that as a good sign.

 

“And what did you say to your friend,” she asked. “I slept with him that night. I dunno, I was bored and lonely, my social life’s been in the gutter since I moved back,” Jim defended. Dr. Padukone wrote that down too. “So you slept with your friend, who’s the ex fiancé of your other friend, who you have a crush on,” she clarified, trying to understand Jim’s train of thought. He nodded, and supplied, “Well, I don’t really have a crush on her anymore.”

 

“And was that the end of it, or are you planning to sleep with that friend again?”

 

“I’m not sure. He asked me to date him after we had sex and I said I’d think about it.”

 

“So you’re dating him then?”

 

“Not quite. Another one of our coworkers was listening in to our conversation, and when my friend left he confessed he had feelings for me too, and asked me to give him a chance also.”

 

“So you’re in a polyamorous relationship with the two of them?”

 

“No. I’m dating both of them separately until I figure out who I like, then I guess I’ll commit to whoever I choose.” Jim saw the drab look on Dr. Padukone’s face. “I don’t see the problem with this, a lot of people date around! It shouldn’t be a problem when I do it.”

 

“I didn’t say anything. Is there something else you want to add?” She wanted to hear more about the injuries on Jim’s face, or how his clothes hung off of him, and how this played a role in his behavior. She was starting to assess his mental state based off of what he said. She looked at the questionnaire Jim filled out. It was obvious that he had a specific diagnosis he wanted, he filled the sheet out in such a way that depression would be the most apparent one. Unfortunately for him she didn’t quite agree with that. She raised her eyebrow at him, urging him to continue.

 

“Yeah. I went out with the coworker—the second one to confess to me— and he accidentally gave me a concussion,” he pointed to a small bump on his head, “My parents were pissed and so I had to move back in with them. That’s pretty much it.” 

 

“It does sound like your under a lot of stress, Jim. Have you noticed your body reacting to these stressful situations in ways your not used to?”

 

“I’ve been having panic attacks for a while, thought I’ve been having more than usual lately.” 

 

“What is more than usual,” she asked. “I’ve had like three since last Monday. Normally I’d have one every other week or so.” Dr. Padukone wrote that down. “Have you been violent, aggressive, or otherwise harmful to yourself or those around you?”

 

Jim mulled over telling her about him attacking Brian, or destroying his room. He could tell her, but then she’d think he had something other than depression. If he didn’t then it would inhibit the healing process or whatever. “Hmmm, yeah. I attacked someone I work with on Friday.”

 

“What was the reason for that?”

 

“He was following me!” She kept her face straight while she watched him. “He is, they all are. The office I work at is being filmed for some documentary, although it’s been three years now and we haven’t heard anything about when it’s coming out. I’m not even sure who’s airing it. We were told PBS at the beginning, but when my coworkers asked last year they were told Netflix. I’m starting to think it’s a scam and it’s just a bunch of perverts following us around.” 

 

“Is it not their job to follow you?”

 

“Not outside of work! You have to sign a waiver every year that gives them permission to follow you outside of non office related events. Either that or you can just invite them along, but I haven’t done either.”

 

“What makes you think they’re following you outside of work hours, Jim?”

 

“I can just feel it. I can feel eyes on me all of the time, or little cameras. I can feel it while I’m driving, or shopping, or whatever. It’s like they’re watching, waiting, to hurt me or something.” Jim was starting to realize how ridiculous he sounded, so he changed course. “But I caught them, or, er,  _ him _ , on Friday! He had no reason to be in the same place as me! Scranton’s not that small of a city, I should be able to not have to see my coworkers or the production staff outside of work.”

 

Dr. Padukone looked at Jim’s questionnaire again. There were questions specifically about whether or not the patient felt as if they were being watched, felt paranoid, or had attacked anyone. Jim answered no to all of them, leading Dr. Padukone to believe that Jim either lied to manipulate his diagnosis or he truly believed he was being followed and and his actions were justified. She frowned, neither was good.

 

“Where did you see this man, Jim? Was it in private quarters or in public?”

 

Jim sat silent for a while; Dr. Padukone could tell where this was going. “I saw him at an arcade, I was there on a date…”

 

“An arcade is a public space, Jim, it’s possible that he was also there for his own enjoyment.”

 

“Right…,” Jim replied skeptically. Dr. Padukone sighed. “I have a few questions about some of your comments and your coping habits. After that I may be able to give you a preliminary diagnosis. First, why did you transfer jobs to begin with? I know you said it was because of the girl you liked, but is there anything more to it?”

 

“Well, one of the guys I’m talking to really wanted me to transfer. I used to terrorize him a bit,” Jim said guiltily. “He told me to leave. I was hurt but figured I had nothing left going for me in Scranton so I took off.”

 

“Define “took off”. When did you leave?”

 

“I applied for the transfer on a Wednesday and moved Friday after work. I started in Sta—the new branch that Monday.”

 

“And you cut off all of your friends and family, and ran away?” Jim looked at her, not seeing anything wrong with his actions.

 

“My parents are very overbearing, they wouldn’t have let me leave if they knew beforehand. I called them once I moved, but that ended up being a big mistake. As for my friends, they should be fine! I’m one less person to worry about. I got clingy a lot so I’m sure getting rid of me was a major win for them.”

 

“You can’t just decide that for other people. Have they tried contacting you via social media, you said earlier you changed numbers.” Jim shook his head, “I deleted all of my social media.”

 

“Let’s move on. The guy your dating, the first one, why do you like him? You said you are recent friends, what about him appeals to you?”

 

“He’s nice, or nice to me. Others don’t seem to think so.” 

 

“Anything else you like about him?”

 

“He a good cook, easy to talk to, and I can tell he really loves me.” Jim could feel Dr.Padukone’s eyes on his body, like she didn’t believe someone being a good cook could be a draw to him. He glowered back. “You can tell he loves you, how so? How does he show his love,” she asked.

 

“He told me the night he confessed to me that he knew everything about me. He ordered my favorite drink and everything before I got there and I had never been drinking with him before that. When I got my concussion he visited me the next day at my house even though I never told him where I lived. He put up with my bitching and moaning and made me lunch. He told me he followed me a bit, but promised he’d stop. It’s different from the camera crew though! Like, it’s creepy nonetheless, but also kinda nice to know someone loves me that much. But I like having boundaries, hence me telling him to stop. It’s off putting too.”

 

Dr. Padukone opened her mouth to comment on that. Nothing came out, so she closed it. She tried once more but got a similar result. Instead she asked about the second guy.

 

“I really like him, he’s nice. He apologized for telling me to transfer, it was a joke! That was nice to hear, I always considered him a friend so it sucked to think he wanted to get rid of me so badly. I apologized to him too, because I pranked him a lot, and no one deserved that. It was shitty of me to do that. There  _ are  _ elements of his personality that I don’t like. He’s one of those macho men; I hate those. They reek of insecurity. They tend to be violent, and I hate violence. That’s why I apologized to the man I attacked, I feel I have every right to defend myself from someone who’s trying to hurt me, but violence shouldn’t be the answer. Anyways I think I unfortunately projected my dislike of those types of people onto my coworker and in turn he made me feel anxious a lot. But I know he won’t hurt me, outside of the concussion. But I like him, he’s kind! He’s the one for found you for me, he was worried after caught me spacing off,” Jim finished.

 

_ Wow _  Dr. Padukone thought. “Last question. How have you coped with these life changes? You mentioned panic attacks earlier, how do you typically handle them? Have you noticed any changes to your sleep schedule or diet?”

 

“I normally just ride my panic attacks out. I go to bed earlier but rise easier too. I think I average eight to ten hours of sleep. I still feel tired sometimes when I’m awake though, and I take naps on the weekend. As for diet, I haven’t been as hungry as I use to be, but I eat whenever my stomach growls. Like I said, I also space out sometimes, but I’m not sure if that’s worth mentioning.”

 

“Thank you Jim.”

 

Dr. Padukone began to assess what she knew about Jim so far. He seemed like a good kid, he was young and had a decent position at a decent job that caused an inordinate amount of stress for him. He said his personal life was lacking, and that contributed to what he thought was depression. He showed signs of anxiety, which he said affected his relationship with one of his friends, and caused him a fair amount of panic attacks. He was tired even after sleeping for a decent amount of time. She agreed, he did seem depressed. But…

 

There was the paranoia, the fear of people following him. He attacked someone in a public space over this. He seemed to also fear rejection, highlighted by him skipping town when two people he thought highly of didn’t react to his advances in a way he found suitable. He also abruptly cut off his friends, fearing they didn’t really like him. He seemed easy to insult, and clung to people who validated him, shown by his relationship with a man who  _ was  _ actually stalking him. He forgave the other man for asking him to leave under the assumption that he was just joking and didn’t really reject him. He exhibited black or white thinking in who he surrounded himself with; if they fit on his dichotomy of good or not good. So far kindness towards him was his only requirement in order to be seen as a good person. He mentioned his coworker bringing up him spacing out a lot, and she attributed it to a mild form of dissociation. She had a hard time getting a feel of his sense of self worth, but his erratic behavior pointed to low self esteem. He admitted that some of his actions were unsavory, but found no fault with them. He wasn’t eating well, and looked to be underweight for his BMI.

 

“Jim, would you say you avoid food?” She wanted to get his diagnosis correct.

 

“No? I don’t see the point in forcing myself to eat if I’m not hungry.” 

 

“Thank you.” After another five minutes Dr. Padukone spoke again, “Well Jim, I thank you for coming in today. Just coming through the door is a huge accomplishment that most people don’t achieve.” He smiled at her. “After assessing your questionnaire and what you’ve told me I have come up with a diagnoses for you. I believe you are suffering from clinical depression.” 

 

Jim wasn’t exactly pleased, clinical depression meant he had a deeper problem than just his environment. Regardless, depression  _ could _ be easy to treat, especially since he caught it early.

 

“I was a bit concerned about your eating habits, but if you say you’re not purposely not eating food then I’ll believe you.”

 

“I’m  _ not  _ anorexic,” Jim defended, growing upset.

 

“I believe you,” Dr. Padukone replied, “Sometimes mental illness can affect how our bodies react to hunger and food. I have no reason to believe you have body dysphoria or are starving yourself.” Jim gave a tight smile at this. Dr. Padukone cleared her throat, and watched Jim’s reaction for her next statement.

 

“Along with depression, I think you are suffering from borderline personality disorder.”

 

* * *

 

Jim was furious. The session hadn’t gone the way he wanted. He assumed he’d be diagnosed with some mild form of depression, but instead he had the regular type. That wasn’t too bad, because it was all treated the same way. He went to her recommended psychiatrist afterward and got a prescription for one hundred fifty milligrams of sertraline. No, the depression wasn’t the problem.

 

It was the BPD. He hadn’t understood what she was talking about when she first diagnosed him with it and even after leaving Jim was confused. He pulled over on the side of the road and looked up the symptoms of BPD on Mayo Clinic. What it basically amounted out to was her thinking he was crazy, like legitimately crazy. There wasn’t even medication for it, he’d have to be in therapy for a long time to make any headway with his condition. 

 

It was his own fault, he shouldn’t have said anything that contradicted what he wrote on the questionnaire.

 

He tried to control his breathing, he wouldn’t get worked up over this. Jim drove to the nearest Walgreens and put the prescription in. He bummed around the store for the fifteen minutes it took to fill it and left. It was only 11am now, and everyone he engaged with were at work. Jim sighed and went back home.

 

When he arrived his mother wasn’t around. He went to his room and took a nap; he’d start taking his medication tomorrow. 

 

He heard a knock at his door an hour later. “Jim, are you here,” his mother called. He let out a muffled noise that she took as permission to enter his room. “Don’t you have work?”

 

“I took today off,” Jim said sleepily.

 

“For what?” His mother looked around his room, and saw the prescription bag on his nightstand. Jim saw her looking and reached to grab the bag. However she beat him to the punch and snatched the bag from his fingertips. She ripped it open and pulled out the bottle.

 

“Sertraline? Jim, this is  _ Zoloft _ ! Why do you have this?”

 

He didn’t see the point in arguing with her. “I went to a psychologist today and was prescribed this.” His mother gasped. “Why would you go to a psychologist?”

 

“Because I needed help? I wouldn’t have gotten a prescription if I didn’t need it.”

 

“What did you tell them! Why didn’t you come to me first?” Jim didn’t understand his parents. The whole point of him even being here was because they thought he was a danger to himself. Now they had proof from a health professional that he was unmitigated hot mess and it was a problem. What did his mother think he would tell the psych? That he was being abused here? Well, that was a bit true, but still, he didn’t have any severe, family ruining secrets to tell. 

 

“We spoke about my struggles adjusting to living in Scranton again, and me living here.”

 

“What did they say,” his mother asked warily. “I have depression, hence the sertraline. Now, if you don’t mind, I want to wallow in self pity and sleep.” Jim rolled over to face away from his mother. He needed to do better in planning out how he’d spend his time away from home. 

 

“That was all you spoke about,” his mother asked dubiously. “Yes,” Jim replied, exhausted. His mother gave him a once over before leaving.

 

When Jim woke up next he found his father sitting next to his bed, watching him sleep.

 

“Holy shit,” Jim cursed. “How long have you been there?” 

 

“Not too long. Your mother informed me that you took a trip to a psychologist today. What was your reasoning in doing that?”

 

“I feel sad and depressed so I wanted an expert opinion on whether I’m sad and depressed. Guess what? I’m sad and depressed.” Jim’s father reached over to touch his face. Jim closed his eyes and braced himself, expecting to be slapped again. Instead his father gently stroked the healing bruises on his face.

 

“What has you feeling so down, honey?”

 

“Everything. My life isn’t going the way I expected it to, although I’m sure my brain chemistry also plays a large role in it.”

 

“I think you’re doing good for your age. You have a nice job that you work hard at, friends, and a nice home. Most of those millennials don’t have that,” his father pointed out. Jim rolled his eyes.

 

“I hate my job, it’s stressful in ways selling paper shouldn’t be and most people there are incompetent. My degree is going to waste and everyday I move further away from being qualified to teach. I have no friends, and this is  _ your  _ house. My life sounds shitty when you put it in those terms.”

 

“Do you want to kill yourself,” his father asked. Jim sat up. “No! God, why would you take it there!?”

 

“I just wanted to know. I worry about you a lot, Jim. I never know what you’re thinking and it scares me, it scares us. We wanted you to come home because we were worried about you and some of your actions, like running away last summer. We figured it was a part of a bigger problem, but knowing you were acting out because of depression is something totally different. You should have come to us first, we would have worked this out without the use of a psychologist.”

 

“You can’t know what I’m thinking, only I should be privy to my own personal thoughts. What bigger problem do you think I have?” Jim wondered if his father thought he was legit crazy too, like Dr. Padukone. He probably did, everyone probably did. His father suddenly looked shifty and stood to leave. Jim felt perturbed by the sudden change. “We’ll be having a late lunch soon if you want to join us.” Jim looked at his phone and saw that it was only 1:30pm. Had his father come home from work just to ask him about his psychologist appointment?

 

“Can I just sleep instead? I’ll see you at dinner.” He expected his father to protest but instead he nodded his head.

 

“Jim, let me know if you’re having trouble with anything, okay. I love you.” 

 

“I love you too, dad.” And with that his father left.

 

* * *

 

His father texted him an hour later saying he and his mother would be going to the movies, and asked if he wanted to come. Jim declined, not wanting to deal with either of his parents at the moment. He also had a date with Roy later, and he didn’t want to be late. 

 

Jim took the opportunity of having an (almost) empty house to himself to go to his art studio. He wasn’t in the mood to paint though, he wanted to archive his newer portfolios among his older works. He entered the room and moved toward the large closet in the back. He started to sort through all of his newer drawings by date when he saw box he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t dated like the rest of his works, and he wasn’t even sure if it were his. He had a box called “young Jim” that held all the doodles and pictures he did as a toddler, but he generally didn’t start drawing until 2004 as a part of his homeschooling. This one was slotted between “young Jim” and “2004”. Did that mean his parents kept any pictures he did between that time? He pulled the box out.

 

All of the pictures were laid face down. The dates on the back though indicated that they were done in 2003. Jim couldn’t remember anything from those years, but it was over a decade ago so it was to be expected. Jim pulled one of the paintings out and flipped it over.

 

He gasped and dropped it. 

 

The canvas looked like a bloody mess. There was no true picture there, but instead a bunch of rustic browns, dirty reds, puke yellows, and blacks. It looked like an open wound. There were pieces of distressed fabric glued to the canvas, and the fabric itself was dirtied and yellowed with age. The picture made Jim feel ill, it was abrasive and disturbing. He couldn’t for the life of him remember painting this.

 

He looked through the rest of the canvases. They were all the same. They all looked like wounds, or like bloody, mutilated animals, and a few of them had affixtures to them, like twigs, stones, or  _ nails _ . Some canvases even smelled metallic, like  _ blood _ making Jim afraid that the reddish black paint was actually blood. He went to the sink and washed his hands, fearing a disease might have resided in the paintings. He grabbed a paint of latex gloves and a dust mask before looking at the paintings again.

 

_ What the fuck is this?  _ Jim thought as he looked through the box. There were twelve pictures, dated from early 2003 until the summer of that same year. At the bottom of the box Jim found a business card for a doctor. He pocketed it and placed all of the paintings back in the box.

 

He hadn’t painted these. He couldn’t have. Even in his childhood drawings Jim had an affinity for bright, happy colors. It was the hallmark of all his works, he didn’t even own paint that dark in color. He was unsettled. Had his siblings painted these? In early 2003 he would have been eight, meaning Larissa would have been eighteen; Tom and Pete would have been out of the house already. Maybe  _ she  _ did these, and his parents put them on his shelf? He snapped pictures of the more disturbing ones and texted his sister.

 

**Jim:** _ hey larissa, I just found these freaky ass paintings in my studio, are they yours? it doesnt look like anything id do. theyre dated for 2003, did you have an emo phase? _

 

He put his phone away and decided what to do with the box. He decided to first finish organizing his works before leaving the room, box in hand. Once back to his room his slid the box under his bed.

 

He checked his phone, Larissa had texted him, a lot. He had three missed calls from her too.

 

**Larissa** :  _ Jim! Where did you find these????? _

 

**Larissa:** _ Your studio huh? That’s weird _

 

 **Larissa:** _They are mine! I’m so sorry, I guess I got really into MCR hahaaha. I tried painting and it wasn’t for meee!_

 

**Larissa:** _ I’m not sure why those were in your studio, I’m so sorry Jim. _

 

**Larissa:** _ Ugh, I’m the worst, I don’t know why I left those there. How are you Jimmy? _

 

**Larissa:** _ Are you okay? Answer your phone! _

 

**Larissa:** _ Did you tell mom and dad? _

 

**Larissa:** _ If you don’t answer right now then I’m buying a plane ticket to Pennsylvania!  _

 

Jim called her back. “Larissa, one text would have been enough,” he said into the phone.

 

“I’m sorry you had to see those, are you okay? Where did you find them?”

 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like I made them. They were in my studio, I guess mom or dad put them there. Are you okay? I don’t remember you having an emo phase.” The other line was quiet for a while. 

 

“Yeah I did! I used to love My Chemical Romance! Ben Gibbard’s the best! I haven’t listened to them in years. Anyway, Jim you’re fine right? They weren’t too scary were they?”

 

“It was a bit disturbing at first, but I’m alright. Seriously Larissa, were you using them as blood sacrifices? Because some of them smelled of blood!”

 

“Wow, really? Wash your hands—,”

 

“I already did! Why was there blood on the paintings, Larissa?” She went quiet again.

 

“I was going through a lot at the time, me and my highschool boyfriend had broken up and I felt hopeless. I tried turning my pain into art, but I wasn’t good at it. I’m sorry you had to find those, Jim. Please, just destroy them.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want them?”

 

“No! Get rid of them! You shouldn’t have seen them to begin with!” It was Jim’s turn to be silent. Who cares if Jim saw them? He was more concerned about Larissa. The paintings were scary, and even if they were from fifteen years ago he couldn’t help but feel worried about her.

 

“Okay. I’ll do that.”

 

“Thanks, little bro.” Jim could hear shifting on the other end of the line. “How are  you? I know you moved back home, how are you holding up?” Jim snorted.

 

“I hate it here, but whatever. How are you?” Larissa went into a rant about some charity ball she was on the planning committee for. Unlike Jim, she had done well for herself, studying computer science and moving out to Silicon Valley in the late 2000s. She worked at Google before retiring after her husband hit it big by creating a trendy app that he sold for a ton of money. Now Larissa mostly took care of the philanthropic side of her husband’s new tech company. Jim felt bad for bothering her, but he needed to know where those paintings came from.

 

“Jim, hello? Are you there,” Larissa called.

 

“Hi, yeah, I am. That sounds hectic, I hope it works out for you.”

 

“Thanks, little bro. Well, you took too long to call me back so I went ahead and bought tickets home. I should be in next Friday, after my charity gala in New York.”

 

“You didn’t have to do that, over a box of paintings. I’ll burn them when I get back later, and we can pretend like this never happened.” 

 

“I can’t visit my baby brother? I haven’t see you in so long! When I come up then me, you, Petey, and Tommy can hang out!” 

 

“Uhh…” Jim really didn’t want to do that.

 

“It’ll be fun Jim, I promise.” Jim sighed, and let his sister plan “fun” activities for them to all do next week.

 

* * *

 

Jim drove to the bowling alley where he was meeting Roy. Truthfully, Jim had never gone bowling before so he was a bit interested in trying. He just hoped Roy wouldn’t be an ass about it.

 

He parked outside the bowling alley and went in. He saw Roy sitting at one of the tables in the back of the alley, along with Darryl, Glenn, and the other warehouse employees. Jim frowned, he didn’t know all of Roy’s friends would be here. Jim exchanged his shoes first, and then headed over to the group. 

 

“Hey,” Jim said gingerly, putting the bowling shoes on while standing. “Darryl, how have you been?”

 

Darryl gave Jim a high five that turned into a hug. “How have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

 

“I saw you last week, at Michael’s matchmaking thing.”

 

“Dude, that doesn’t count! You know what I mean.”

 

Jim sat across from Roy and watched as he added Jim’s name to the scoreboard. “You ever been bowling before, princess,” Roy asked and Jim shook his head. Roy smiled. “Really? Well, I wanna take a bunch of pictures then! You should always document your first time trying new things.” Jim leaned over and allowed Roy to take a picture of him in front of the score machine.

 

“I didn’t know the entire warehouse would be here. We could have invited Dwight a—,”

 

“I had to share a date with him on Monday, I don’t want to do that again,” Roy hissed.

 

“—nd Andy,” Jim finished. “You can get really possessive, huh?” Roy didn’t respond. 

 

“Hey, Jim,” Glenn called. “Did you know Roy got us all banned from going upstairs? He almost got out lunch breaks taken too.” Glenn plopped down in the seat next to Roy. 

 

Jim already knew, but played along. “How’d he manage that?”

 

“Michael was tripping about Roy going upstairs too much, said he didn’t want him talking to his employees. I think Roy here is trying to win back Pam, there’s no other reason for him to be up there so often.” Everyone laughed.

 

“Well,” said Roy, looking dead at Jim. “What can I say? If I see something beautiful then I need to go after it.” Jim blushed and turned away. Darryl wasn’t as impressed. “You need to figure out a way for us to be allowed back upstairs, man. We don’t have a microwave and our bathrooms aren’t as nice.”

 

“I’d wait it out for another week, Michael will eventually forget,” said Jim.

 

Jim, Roy, Darryl, and Hide bowled on one lane while Glenn, Madge, Frank, and Lonnie bowled on another. Roy went first and hit all of the pins on the first try. He walked over to Jim and whispered in his ear, “Do you find my athleticism sexy, princess?” Jim rolled his eyes and replied, “No.”

 

Darryl went next and hit all of the pins via a spare. Hide went and achieved a strike. Jim felt a bit nervous now, it was obvious the warehouse crew went bowling a lot. It’d be apparent that he never done it before, and then everyone would judge him. Roy saw Jim’s worried face and asked, “Jim, did you make sure to get a ball you’re comfortable with?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The ball. Did you grab one that fits you?”

 

“No? Are they all not the same?” Roy sighed and sat back. Jim could figure it out for himself. Jim stepped to the ball return and grabbed the first ball he saw. It was too heavy and the holes were too big for his fingers. He used it however, fearing he was taking up too much time already. He put his fingers in the holes and aimed the ball to the best of his ability. He tossed it and watched it roll right into the gutter. 

 

“Ahhh,” was all he could say. Darryl and Hide started laughing. “You suck,” called Hide as Jim sat back down. Roy tapped him with his foot. “You have another turn,” he whispered. He sighed and got back up and tried again with a different ball. He looked on the shelf this time and found a pink ball that was lighter than the previous ball, and fit his fingers better. He rolled it, and while it ended up going farther than his first attempt it still landed in the gutter.

 

“Have you never been bowling before,” Darryl asked curiously. Jim begrudgingly shook his head. “I feel like all the elementary schools here go bowling. I think my first time was in third or fourth grade. Did your school just not go?”

 

“Uhh, I’m not sure?”

 

“You can’t remember?”

 

Jim tried thinking about whether or not he went on field trips in elementary school, but found he couldn’t even remember the name of his school. He went to a private school for kindergarten, first, and second grade, but after that he could not remember where he went. Was it a private school, the same one? Was it a public school like the high school he went to? Or was he home schooled? He looked up and saw everyone staring at him, mild concern in their eyes. 

 

“I dunno, the name of my elementary school is escaping me right now.”

 

“You remember nothing about elementary school,” asked Roy warily. “No, I remember first and second grade, I just can’t remember third or fourth.”

 

“What about fifth grade,” Darryl found himself asking. “I was home schooled from fifth through eighth grade. I finished it all in two years, I remember that.”

 

“Do you remember anything else from that time,” Darryl pressed again. Jim tried thinking about movies, books, music, and life events that would have happened during those two years. He came up blank.

 

“...no. But it’s fine, you can’t be expected to remember every single thing about your life,” replied Jim, smiling.

 

“You have hole in memory,” Hide deadpanned and Roy slapped his side. Jim’s smile faltered, and he counted backwards to see what year he should have been in third grade.

 

2002.

 

Why couldn’t he remember anything from 2002 or 2003? He could clearly remember 2004: his sister transferred colleges, he started his homeschooling, he took up art, Spider-man 2 came out. In 2001 he remembered his paternal grandmother died, and he remembered 9/11. But he could not place 2002 or 2003.  _ What the hell? _ He tried again while everyone bowled their turns. He thought so hard that he head began to hurt. He gave up at that point, and went to bowl his turn.

 

Jim picked up the pink ball again which earned some snickers from Darryl and Hide. Jim shrugged; he liked the color pink. He rolled the ball and this time it didn’t land in the gutter!

 

It went into the lane next to him. 

 

A little girl screamed when she saw a pink ball barreling towards her. Jim sunk down into his seat, not caring that he had another turn left. Everyone at the alley, including Roy, were laughing at him. He glared at Roy, not liking that the man was laughing at him too. Feeling pissed, Jim pulled his shoes off and stormed to the front desk. He got his shoes back and was putting them on when Roy ran up to him. “Hey princess, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at ya.”

 

“Leave me alone, Roy.” Roy took his shoes off and exchanged them for his street shoes. “Where are you going,” he asked instead, ignoring Jim. 

 

“Home!”

 

“No, you’re not. The night is still young.” Roy took Jim by the hand. He gave a farewell wave to his friends and pulled Jim into the parking lot. Instead of getting into their cars Roy pulled him into a diner across the street. He took Jim to a booth, and sat across from him.

 

Jim looked at him, peeved and misty eyed. “Roy, I want to go home now.”

 

“Do you  _ really  _ want to go home, Jim Jam?” Jim shook his head, defeated. Roy leaned over the table and kissed the tip of Jim’s nose. Jim pulled away, disgusted. “Don’t do that, it’s gross.” 

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. I didn’t know you haven’t been bowling before. If I had then we could have done something else you’re more comfortable with.”

 

“No, it’s fine. I wanted to learn, but I guess I just suck at it.” Roy reached over to grab Jim’s hand. “It takes practice, sweetheart. We can try again one day.” Jim sniffed and looked away.

 

“How was your day,” he asked Roy.  “Boring, I took inventory for all of the orders going out for the rest of the month. Some of the numbers we’re getting from the upstairs are wrong, so we’re short on bales.”

 

“I’m sorry, that might be me.”

 

“Nah, your numbers are always correct, it must be because you’re a math teacher. But seriously, your fine, it’s always either Andy or Stanley who fucks up. How was your day? I know you had your psych evaluation today, how’d that go?”

 

Jim sat seething for a while, remembering his diagnoses. “What, you don’t want to tell me,” asked Roy. “Lemme guess, you have BPD.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Roy,” said Jim, giving him the answer. Roy’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Jim. God, that’s rough, I’m sorry—,”

 

“Can it, Roy! I don’t want your sympathy.”

 

The waitress came and dropped two menus and two cups of water on the table. “It makes sense though,” Roy whispered causing Jim to look at him. “How so,” Jim asked.

 

“You’re depressed, not eating, paranoid, and sometimes erratic. Those are signs of either BPD or paranoid personality disorder.”

 

“How am I erratic?”

 

“You told me you dropped all your friends out of the blue, you attacked that camera guy despite being morally against violence, you tossed your lunch over the ledge…,” Roy caught himself, but not quick enough. Jim picked up his water and threw it on Roy, eliciting shocked gasps from some of the other patrons. 

 

“Fuck you, you stalker creep,” said Jim before sliding out of the booth. Roy followed him out. Jim ran across the street and back to his truck. He tried climbing in but was pulled back out by his waist. Jim was full on crying now, and Roy tried to wipe away his tears only to be stopped by Jim slapping his hands away.

 

“Roy, leave me alone! You don’t listen! I told you to stop following me and you didn’t! You lied to me and I can’t trust you,” Jim cried. Roy pulled Jim close to his wet chest and pushed him against his truck. “I’m sorry, baby. I only did it because I was worried about you after what Dwight said. I swear, I’m not following you anymore. I just worry about you.” He held Jim tighter. “I won’t do it anymore, I’m serious, I swear!” Jim didn’t try fighting back. 

 

“I don’t like it when people don’t listen to me, Roy. The way I see it, you lied to me. I don’t know how I can trust you. I’ve literally asked you to do one thing, and that was to not follow me around! I've already told you about the crew following me and now you’re adding to that! I don’t know how you know so much about me—,”

 

“You’re social media accounts. Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, your Deviantart, your Tumblr. I followed you on all those platforms when you had them, and I learned about you from there. I listened to the stuff Pam told me about you, and I watched you at work. I paid attention to what you told others about yourself and connected the dots about stories that didn’t make sense. I knew you came from a rich family already because your dad is a football legend and your last name isn’t common. I knew what schools you went to and what you studied from your mutuals on Facebook. I know where you live. I’m sorry, I just really like you and wanted to know everything about you. I’ve liked you since the first time I ever laid eyes on you. I didn’t ever think I’d get the chance to  _ actually  _ know you outside of being my fiancée’s friend though.”

 

“Why are you telling me this,” Jim asked, shocked.

 

“I’m telling you why I know so much about you. I want to lay all my cards on the table to so you don’t question what I do or don’t know about you. I didn’t know about your home life or how you grew up. I didn’t know you couldn’t bowl, or that you were diagnosed with BPD earlier. I wasn’t making a joke. I was concerned and looked it up, it sounded like it fit the best.”

 

Jim could tell Roy was being genuine, but he still felt nervous. He didn’t know what to think. He could push Roy away, but there was no telling if he’d come back, and Jim secretly didn’t want that. And besides, if Roy did know everything about him then there’d be no secrets between the two of them now? So Jim hugged him even closer and found himself crying on Roy’s shoulder. Roy rubbed circles in his back for a while. Roy caught his mouth in a kiss and cupped Jim’s face. They stayed like that until they heard the sound of a wet splat on the concrete. Roy turned and saw Darryl standing there, cigarette in one hand and an open hand where his now spilled soda used to be. 

 

“Uhh,” Darryl said. “Is he why you’re always upstairs?” Roy just snuggled into Jim more.

 

“Sorry,” replied Jim, thoroughly embarrassed. Even the warehouse staff knew about them now. “We’re gonna go now….” Jim climbed back into his truck and waited for Roy to get into the passenger seat. When he did Jim pulled off leaving a shocked Darryl behind.

 

“I can’t use the microwave now because of Jim,” asked Darryl aloud. He slowly stepped backwards into the bowling alley, cigarette forgotten.

 

* * *

 

“I’m still mad at you,” Jim said after parking. He found a spot the overlooked the Lackawanna River. He turned to Roy. “I can’t trust you and it’s gonna take a while for me to ever be able to do that again!”

 

“That’s fair,” Roy replied.

 

“I just want to be in control of my own life. I don’t want people knowing everything about me before we meet, it takes the joy out of getting to know someone. So far you’re only heard bad things about me from my mouth because you’ve robbed me of the opportunity to present myself. I don’t want to be controlled by my parents, or dating contracts, or by a mental illness, or medication. I want to be able to make my own independent decisions without some opposing force trying to stop me, okay?”

 

“I understand, and I’m sorry Jim.” Roy took Jim’s hand in his and rubbed circles into the back of it with his thumb.

 

“Earlier my dad said I scared him because he didn’t know what I was thinking. What does that mean? You can’t know what someone is thinking, I’m an autonomous human being, I should be allowed to think for myself!”

 

“I agree.”

 

“I—I’m just ranting at you now, I’m sorry,” Jim apologized. “Don’t be, let it all out, babe. Is there anything else you want to say?”

 

“Hmm. My sister is coming to visit next week. I think it’ll be awkward. She wants to hang out with me and our older brothers.”

 

“What’s so bad about that?”

 

“Larissa is like, ten years older than me. Tom is twelve and Pete is fourteen. I have nothing in common with them. I was practically an only child, they’re that much older than me. I think they think I’m a failure. They’ve all had illustrious careers, and I haven’t.”

 

_ “ _ I think your projecting a bit, Jim. You have no way of knowing that. Remember what you just said about your father? It’s the same for you. Only they know what their thinking.”

 

“Tom’s told me as much though.”  _ Ouch _ thought Roy,  _ that couldn’t have been good for Jim’s self esteem.  _ “Why would he say that?”

 

Jim shrugged. “He’s always hated me, I’m not sure why. I remember I asked him for a favor, when I came back to Scranton and my parents were dead set on me moving back in, I asked him and Pete to vouch for me. To just say they would check in on me, even though they wouldn’t actually have to. Pete agreed easily enough, but Tom looked at me with such hatred that I thought he was gonna tell our parents my plan. He eventually said yes, but he was such a bitch about it! Luckily for me I barely grew up around him.”

 

“I can understand you not wanting to hang around him then. But more than likely he’ll say no and it’ll be you, Larissa, and Pete. I wouldn’t worry, your siblings aren’t your enemies; don’t be afraid of them.”

 

“I’m just worried they don’t like me. My psychologist said she thinks I’m afraid of rejection. I guess she’s right.” Jim tugged at his long bangs self consciously and Roy found it adorable. He hugged Jim at this.

 

“Your sister wouldn’t have invited you out if she didn’t like you. How did this come about anyways? Her coming here?”

 

“I texted her a question earlier, and she freaked out and bought a plane ticket home.” 

 

“What did you ask her,” Roy asked. Jim pulled out his cell phone and showed Roy the pictures of the horrifying paintings he found earlier. Roy looked at them with disgust. “Jim, did you skin an animal in the name of art?”

 

“No! I didn’t do these, I swear. Larissa did, like fifteen years ago. They were in my studio—,”

 

“You have your own art studio,” Roy asked incredulously. Jim scoffed. “Yeah, I do, keep up. I found these when I was organizing my work earlier. Roy, these things were covered in blood, and god knows what else. She said she was emo back then.”

 

“What are you gonna do with them?”

 

“Burn them,” Jim said simply. “No point in keeping them.” Roy was still creeped out by them. “What do they mean? Is she okay? I’d hope so at least, it’s been fifteen years.”

 

“I’m not sure. She said she was depressed after a breakup so maybe it’s as simple as that?”

 

“Do you remember her being depressed?”

 

“No…, apparently I don’t remember much from this time. This was from 2003 and I’m drawing a blank about that time.” Roy watched Jim curiously.

 

“So,” Roy started slowly, “you found these among  _ your _ artwork and they were drawn during a time that you can’t remember whatsoever. How do you know you didn’t make these?”

 

“I can just tell. Remember when I showed you my work and how colorful it was? My art has always been like that. I can’t imagine going goth for a year or two and making new these. I was eight and nine too, imagine the pain you’d have to go through to make something like this. I didn’t have a hard life, there’s absolutely no reason I would have made these. Besides, Larissa already fessed up and said they was hers. Why would she lie?”

 

“That’s fair. Does it bother you that you don’t remember a whole two year period of your life, or…,” asked Roy, worried.

 

“No, because at this point the past just blurs together, right? I probably do remember them but I’m blanking on the dates. Nothing too significant must of happened in my life if those years don’t stand out. Which lends more to the theory that I didn’t make these. Larissa was a teen and this just seems like something a moody teen would make, you know?”

 

Roy wasn’t convinced. “When is your next psychologist appointment? I’d bring it up then. I’m sorry, kid, but I don’t think that’s normal.” Jim sat fuming. Roy continued, “I’d ask your parents too, or at least Larissa. You’re too young not to remember fundamental years of your life.”

 

“Fine.” Roy could tell Jim wasn’t going to do any of that.

 

“It’s time to get you home, Roy. I’m sure you want to dry off, it’s cold outside.”

 

“Yeah, I do.” 

 

Jim drove Roy back to the bowling alley. It was packed now, although he wasn’t sure if Darryl and co were still there. Roy jumped out of the truck and walked to his. He gave Jim a wave before getting in and driving off. 

 

* * *

 

Jim texted Dwight as soon as he got home. 

 

**Jim:** _ how was work today? i havent heard about it these past two days anything so i guess thats good? how does it feel to finally be the assistant tegional manager lol? _

 

**Jim:** * _ regional _

 

**Dwight:** _ It’s not as glamorous as I anticipated. Jim, why didn’t you mention how heavy your workload was? We had to split it between me, Phyllis, and Andy. I can understand why you’re so stressed. _

 

**Dwight:** _ Speaking of stress, how was your evaluation today? I hope you mentioned some of the symptoms I listed earlier. I saw you read the message but didn’t respond to it. _

 

**Dwight:** _ You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I understand if you don’t.  _

 

Jim was touched that Dwight respected his privacy. He was truly different from Roy. 

 

**Jim:** :(  _ michael assigned them all to me. i didnt want him to be upset at me so i did it. _

 

**Jim:** _ the doctor said i have borderline personality disorder. basically she thinks im emotionally disturbed and my need to always be liked makes me do irrational things. D,,: _

 

**Jim:** _ she = the psych. google said men with bpd is rare so im hoping shes wrong  _

 

Jim entered the house, and headed to his parents’ room. He knocked on the door and checked his phone while waiting for an answer.

 

**Dwight:** _ Thank you for telling me, Jim. It couldn’t have been easy to do. I’m a bit shocked myself but on further reflection and a quick google search I could see how she’d come to that conclusion. Not every emotional outburst has to be a big (although you’ve had a few of those), they just have to be abnormal. I thought it was the stress influencing your reactions, but it’s good you have something more tangible to focus on while you get better. _

 

**Dwight:** _ I’ll try to make sure you don’t have such a big workload when you come back, I think it’ll help immensely. Plus, you weren’t even getting paid extra for it, what a hassle. _

 

Jim’s mother was at the door. “Oh, Jimmy! I thought you were the help. How can I help you?” Jim shuffled his feet, not sure how to phrase his question. His father cut in from behind the door, “I did  _ not  _ see you at dinner, you lied!” He sounded like a petulant child and Jim found it funny.

 

“Sorry! I forgot I had plans tonight. If it makes you feel better, the psychologist said I didn’t have anorexia.”

 

“You’re skinny!”

 

“I’m tall, I’ll always be skinny!”

 

“Try bulking up, it’ll help with your depression too!” Jim scoffed.

 

Jim looked down at his mother. “Will you walk to the kitchen with me, I am kinda hungry.” His mother closed the door to put on a robe and reopened it. She took his hand in hers and they walked off. 

 

“Hey, I just need to send this one text off, I’m sorry,” Jim apologized. His mother nodded. He pulled his phone out with his free hand and responded to Dwight.

 

**Jim:** _ no problem! she said something similar about the scale of reactions but i didnt understand it. it makes more sense when you say it lol. _

 

**Jim:** _ what are you doing on friday night? i distinctly remember you promising me a sleepover. you can come here, we have a theater! _

 

He turned his attention back to his mother. “Sorry,” he said again. They stepped into the kitchen and Jim looked for something quick and easy to make. He found a pack of ramen noodles and raised a brow. “We bought them for you. I can make you something else if you want,” his mother explained.

 

“No, these will be fine.” His mother sat at the counter while he popped the noodles in the microwave. He turned to face her. He figured he’d ask his mother this over his father or Larissa. While she was as harsh as his father, he could count on her to not get mad if it weren’t something she wanted to answer. His father would, and Larissa would just freak out or try to deflect. “I went bowling today—,”

 

“How was that! Did you have fun?”

 

“Not at all. I’ve never been so I didn’t get any pins the first time, and the second time my ball went into the other lane.” His mother’s head dropped, Jim could tell she was laughing under her breath. “Anyways, one of my coworkers asked if I had ever been bowling before. He thought it was weird because all of the Scranton public schools take the kids bowling in like the third and fourth grades apparently—not that I would know since I don’t work there, but whatever— and asked where I went to school.  Problem is, I cannot remember for the life of me where I went. Help?”

 

His mother looked at him like he grew a second head. He pushed on. “‘This was like in 2002 and 2003, because I remember being home schooled after that. Do you know?” She looked positively faint now, and Jim was worried. 

 

“Mom, are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine Jimmy, I’m good. What made you think of this?”

 

“The bowling alley? Everyone learned in elementary school except for me, so I guess I missed a big milestone of my life. I tried to think about what I did back then but couldn’t remember a thing…. also! I found this weird ass box of art Larissa did earlier, from ‘03. She said she was depressed then but I don’t remember that.”

 

“Where. Is. It,” his mother bit out, suddenly furious. “Dude, that’s what I’m asking you! Where did I go to school—,”

 

“Jim, where’s the art?” 

 

“I took it to my room, I told Larissa I’d burn it for her. It’s a bit late though, so I’ll do it tomorrow.” 

 

“Are you okay, Jim?” There it was again, someone asking if  _ he _ were alright after seeing Larissa’s freaky deaky paintings. He didn’t understand, outside of mild revulsion at seeing them for the first time, why wouldn’t he be alright? He was growing concerned.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine! Is Larissa alright?”

 

“Yes. She was a bit shaken after one of her friends passed, but eventually she was able to get over it.”  _ That’s not the same story Larissa told me earlier _ Jim thought, perturbed. “Oh, that’s sad,” he said instead.

 

“Yeah, so let’s make sure to destroy those tomorrow, okay?” Jim nodded. His mother slid off of her seat and walked out of the kitchen. She hadn’t answered his question.

 

* * *

 

Jim sat on the bed in his room. Today had been a busy, hectic day for him. He didn’t know where to begin unpacking it all. 

 

He got the feeling that his family was lying to him about something. The paintings, the fear of the psychologist, the general intrusiveness, the holes in his memory.  _ What the hell is going on here?  _

 

He pulled out his laptop and looked at the dreams he recorded. He was still convinced that they were from some low budgeted Ukrainian horror film he saw, but the thought that they meant something more niggled at the back of his brain. He got up to change clothes. When removing his pants the business card he took from the box fell out. Jim picked it up. Dr. Hanson, from the University of Pennsylvania. It didn’t say what she was a doctor in, just her phone number printed ominously on the bottom of the card. Whoever she was, she had something to do with those paintings, otherwise her card wouldn’t have been in the box. Maybe she had been Larissa’s therapist after...after whatever the hell happened to her happened. Maybe Jim had a brain injury he didn’t know about, and this lady had been his surgeon. He just wasn’t sure, but he’d look in the morning.

 

Jim checked his phone one final time before going to bed. Dwight had texted him back.

 

**Dwight:** _ Sure, it sounds like a plan. :D _

 

Well, at least one thing was going well for him today.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(  
> I have this story mostly plotted out, the only thing I don't really know is who Jim's ending up with. Maybe Dwight, maybe Roy, maybe he just needs to be by himself. I think there's four to seven chapters left after this. A lot happened in this chapter, I'm sorry about it, but it needed to happen. There's going to be a lot happening in the next few chapters too. I feel bad for Jim, I should have just written a fic where he pranks Dwight incessantly, something canon complaint lmao. Oh well, it'll be over soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim runs into the most unlikely person. Dwight owes him a sleepover, and its bound to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work isn't beta read, so if you see any mistakes please let me know.

On Friday Jim took his laptop and went to a Starbucks in Pittston and began searching for Dr. Hanson. The number on the card no longer worked so he instead began by checking the University of Pennsylvania database that listed all of the students, faculty, and alumnus who attended the school. Dr. Jessica Hanson taught at the university in the psychology department from 2003 to 2016, mostly as a professor for child and adolescent psychology. The database didn’t give any information into why she left, but Jim guessed she started a new practice or moved to a different school.

 

He moved to Google. He typed in her name, and was shocked at the results. The first article that came up was one about Dr. Jessica Hanson being fired from UPenn after sleeping with a student more than thirty years her junior. Other articles detailed stories from other anonymous students who had slept with her. Apparently Dr. Hanson had a predilection for barely legal men, having slept with at least ten students during her thirteen year tenure at the university. Jim gagged, this woman sounded gross. Still, he pushed forward, looking for clues that would hint towards her relation with his family.

 

A news article on CNN mentioned that she owned a child and adolescent psychiatry service in Philadelphia prior to her appointment at UPenn. She owned it for ten years before leaving it in 2003 at the guidance of a University of Pennsylvania board member who recommended her for the position at the school in the first place. There it was, his clue. He had no doubt in his mind that it was his mother who recommended her. 

 

None of the students pressed charges, some feeling they weren’t being taken advantage of, while most didn’t want the ridicule that would come from coming forward publicly. Still, her academic career was dead and so she left Philadelphia and went to New York City. Apparently the allegations caused a huge scandal since UPenn had taken a stance just a year earlier to commit to making the campus a safe space for all students. Her actions and the university’s initial attempt to cover up the allegations proved that this wasn’t true. After that Jim couldn’t find anything more about her. Dr. Hanson seemingly fell off the map after being fired.

 

He had to talk to her in person, he wanted to know if she had been Larissa’s psychologist in 2003, or something else. He knew she was in New York City, but not where. So he moved to Reddit, went to the New York City subreddit, and made a new post.  _ Whatever Happened to Dr. Jessica Hanson  _ was his subject title. He asked if anyone had ever seen the woman around the boroughs, and what were her frequent haunts. He posted links to the news articles just in case no one had heard of her, because he didn’t until he decided to look for her. In the meantime Jim rented a hotel room in the city for two days. He rented the room for Wednesday and Thursday; hopefully he could go after his therapy appointment and be back before Larissa got in.

 

He searched idly on his computer, trying to pass the time while waiting for responses on his post. He was growing agitated, he could feel people looking at him. He turned around and checked for the production crew but saw no one. Why would there be anyone? He was in Pittston, a good twenty minutes away from Scranton. No one knew he was here. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He packed up his laptop, grabbed his drink, and stood to leave. He hoped the next time he sat somewhere that he’d have a good enough of replies on his Reddit post. He wasn’t expecting a lot, just enough to give him a general idea of where he could find this woman. 

 

* * *

 

The next place he set up shop was an independent coffee shop in Wilkes Barre. Jim found the coffee was too bitter, and the barista too rude, but whatever. He was mostly here to avoid stares. The cafe was mostly empty save for him and a woman slumped over a computer in the corner. It was 10:45 am, still too early for lunch, but too late for a breakfast run. It was perfect. 

 

He checked Reddit, and over a forty people responded to his post. Apparently Dr. Hanson lived in Midtown and visited a rotation of bars in the area depending on the day. Jim wrote them all down in a Google Doc. She also had a small practice now, with some people commenting on the ethics of her still being allowed to practice child and adolescent psychology when she was caught abusing young adults. Jim was much too old to visit her there, so he planned on sticking with the bars. 

 

Jim heard a plate dropping and looked over to the sound. It was the woman in the back corner. He couldn’t see her reaction due to one of the employees blocking his view, but she seemed apologetic. Once the waiter moved Jim got a clear view of the woman. It was Angela.  _ Fuck. _

 

Jim quickly turned back around and looked ahead. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and he didn’t want her to. How awkward, here he was sitting in this cafe, bumming around on his paid leave while there she was, bumming around on her unpaid leave. He moved to pack his things up yet again, but he felt a small hand on his forearm.

 

“Jim,” called Angela. “Why aren’t you at work?”

 

“I’m, uh, on leave,” he mumbled. Angela slid into the chair across from him. Jim now felt compelled to sit back down even though he wanted to bolt. “How long are you on leave,” she asked.

 

“Three weeks. I might extend it depending on how I feel though, or use my paid vacation days.”

 

“Ah. I’m on leave too, although I go back on Monday. I’m sure you knew that already.” She didn’t sound bitter about it, which was good. Jim already knew it was his fault, so he could go without Angela making him feel even worse.

 

“I’m sorry Jim, it was out of line of me to snap at you. I’d say I didn’t know what came over me, but I did. I just don’t like you.” Jim looked around, plotting his escape. He wanted to exit this conversation, and fast, before he got another verbal lashing. 

 

“Me not liking you is no reason for me to talk to you that way, however. I...well, you won’t believe me but, Ihavebipolardisorderandmymedsstoppedworking.” Angela took a deep breath after that and slipped the smoothie she brought over. “I was having a bad reaction to my new medication and I took it out on you. I really am sorry Jim. I hate you, but not that much.”

 

Jim sat silent. Angela looked so vulnerable after telling him that, and it made him feel bad. 

 

“I deserve my suspension, I can’t believe I said that. Once I calmed down I immediately regretted it. I wanted to apologize but you already left. I could tell you were really upset.”

 

“I was not,” Jim lied. It still hurt to think about, that someone hated him that much. But it was better knowing that Angela didn’t hate him a lot, just a little. It wasn’t like, but he doubted Angela liked many things outside of her cats. 

 

“I don’t think you’re a whore. You’re annoying though, but not a trick. I’m sure your truck is just an expensive rental. Did you mess up your other car? I don’t think renting a Benz is a sound investment, no matter how cool it looks,” Angela stated. Jim gave her a small smile. She was rambling now and he could tell Angela was regretting telling him that she was bipolar. He decided to level the playing field.

 

“It’s fine, I understand. I, uh, have BPD and depression, so yeah,” he finished lamely. Angela raised an eyebrow at him. “You? Really? A borderline personality disorder? I would have never guessed. Since when?”

 

“I dunno exactly when. I guess last summer? But I was diagnosed on Wednesday.”

 

“Is that why you’re talking time off?” Jim nodded. “I wanted to get help, yeah, plus coming into work wasn’t doing my mental any good either.” Angela looked down at this, and Jim awkwardly patted her hand to comfort her. She snatched her hand away.

 

“Well that makes sense, you’ve always been the biggest crybaby ever,” Angela stated. “I’m not,” said Jim, appalled. Since when was he whiny? 

 

“Yes you are. You’ve never had a sound grip on your emotions. Always disgustingly happy until things don’t go your way, then you’re a total jackass. I thought it was because you were a vapid, coddled child, who’s never been told no before, but instead there’s just something wrong with you. Also, you absolutely cannot stand the fact that some people don’t like you, and then get into your stupid feelings about it. Then you overreact and do something that you think would get them to like you, and if it backfires you get pissy again. Wash, rinse, repeat. I’m sure that’s why you transferred so fast last year, someone must have said something to you that you didn’t like and you overreacted.” It was mean, but in the way that Angela tended to be mean. Jim wasn’t sure how to react.

 

“Why has nobody ever told me that I’m...unsound then,” he asked. This was the first time he heard from anyone outside of his family that they thought he unstable before last summer.

 

“Because everyone likes you, so they ignore it. Except for me, but try not to be too hurt about it,” Angela smirked, and Jim scowled, upset. She didn’t need to rub it in. “There you go again. Not everyone is going to like you. Why can’t it be enough that every other person in the office likes you? Why fixate on the fact that I don’t?”

 

“No one in the office likes me, except for Dwight, Michael, and Andy,” Jim grouched. Angela shook her head frustratedly, he was wearing on her nerves by missing the point. She guessed he couldn’t help it thought.

 

“Dwight over Pam, really? Pam likes you. I can’t believe you’d even question that.”

 

“She only started talking to me again last week. Before that she avoided me.”

 

“You skipped town on her, and ignored her. Then you continue to associate with her bastard of an ex. Honestly I’d  _ never  _ talk to you again, she’d be in her right. She slapped me on Monday, she wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t like you.”

 

“Okay. Beside them no one likes me.”

 

“Phyllis does, and so does Kevin, Oscar, Meredith, Stanley, Toby, Kelly, Ryan, and Creed.”

 

“No, they don’t! They all laughed at me on Monday when you yelled at me,” Jim replied tersely.

 

“That was rude of them,” Angela admitted. “But we take the piss out of each all of the time. Why get angry at other people doing it when you do it yourself? It doesn’t mean they don’t like you, they just found your misery funny at the moment. They probably don’t even remember laughing at you now, while you’re internalizing every microaggression someone’s committed towards you. It doesn’t effect the fact that they like you, Jim. Even the cameramen like you, they followed you to Stamford because they liked you so much.”

 

Jim flinched at the mention of the production staff. Angela rolled her eyes, she didn’t want to deal with all of Jim’s neuroses today. She had noticed his stilted behavior towards them but figured they did something to upset him back in Stamford. Now she had no idea, and didn’t care to.

 

“I assume you have a therapist or psychologist. I’d mention your feelings of inadequacy to them. Try focusing on getting better over the next few weeks, so you don’t bring your messiness to the office.”

 

“Like you did,” asked Jim smiling. Angela gave a small smile back.

 

“Right, just like I did.”

 

* * *

 

Jim bought a movie ticket for a showing of Game Night. The theater was dead empty save for an elderly couple sitting in the front, which was just what Jim was looking for. He wanted to take a nap, but didn’t want to go all the way home for it. His mother would surely get suspicious if he continued to come home so early.

 

Jim reclined his seat and settled in. He toyed with the idea of watching the movie since he paid for it, but decided against it. Five dollars for a two hour nap sounded like a good deal to him. Jim fell asleep during the previews, not even making it to the first scene of the movie. His sleep was restless initially, the loud noises of the theater preventing him from moving past the NREM stages. Soon Jim got used to the noise, his mind began cooking up dreams.

 

* * *

 

_ The little boy was slumped over in a chair, hands tied behind his back. His head hurt, his arms hurt, his whole body hurt. He couldn’t hear well out of one ear, and it troubled him. What if he couldn’t hear the scary man approaching. _

 

_ The scary man told him he’d be back later, but the little boy hoped that he wouldn’t come. He hoped with his entire being that the scary man would die. He continuously hurt the little boy in ways he didn’t know was possible. He struggled against the chair, cutting his already bleeding wrists more. He couldn’t remember how long he had been with the scary man, he had lost track of time. Maybe it had be forty or so days now. He’d die here with this man, and he was at peace with it. The little boy never thought about dying before, the concept was too abstract for him. He just hoped that his mommy and daddy and sister never died because he would never see them again. But now, he knew what death and killing was. He was going to die like all of deer and birds the scary man shot or made him shoot. The scary man was going to kill him, and he just hoped that it would come soon. _

 

_ The door opened to the cellar he was locked in. The scary man stood at the top of the stairs, haloed by the light. He walked slowly down the stairs, trying to bring fear to the little boy’s heart. It wouldn’t work, not anymore, because the little boy didn’t have the strength in him to fear the scary man anymore. He had done every possible horrifying thing to the little boy now, what was left to fear? Surely it wasn’t death, because the little boy welcomed it at this point. “We have to go, they’re on to us,” said the scary man. He untied the little boy’s arms, and helped him up. Once out of the chair the scary man tied his arms together again, so the little boy couldn’t run. He had tried it before, and it had gotten him nowhere. _

 

_ He was ushered to a different car than the one they had previously taken, but the scary man made them switch cars often, so the little boy wasn’t phased. He stood by the trunk, he knew the drill by now. The scary man opened the trunk and lifted him into it. Before closing it the scary man turned to him and spoke, “Once we make it pass state lines it’ll be just you and me, baby. Fuck the money, or the job, or the police. I’ll have you, baby, and that’s all I’ll need.” The scary man slammed the trunk shut without covering the little boy’s mouth or good eye. His mistake. _

 

_ The little boy just hope their car careened off of a bridge and killed them both before he had to spend the rest of his life with the scary man.  _

 

* * *

 

When Jim woke up the movie was just winding down. He was sick of those dreams! They came and went as they pleased, and could happen whether he was asleep or not. It was tiring, and he felt more restless than ever. He got up to leave, figuring he’d got all the sleep he was getting. 

 

He climbed into his car and looked at the time. It was only 3:00 pm. He needed to find something to do for the next two hours. He drove around for an hour, before heading to a Barnes & Noble to check out new autobiographies. At 4:45 pm Jim texted Dwight to make sure he was still coming.

 

**Jim:** _ hi! are we still on? _

 

**Jim:** _ say yes >:( _

 

**Dwight:** _ Hello Jim. Yes, we’re still on. Is 7 an okay time for me to come? _

 

**Jim:** _ yay! That works! :) _

 

**Jim:** _ yay! that works! :)** _

 

**Dwight:** _ Do you normally go out of your way to make sure all of the words you text are in lowercase, or do you only do it for me? _

 

**Jim:** _ i do it for everyone, its my signature style  _

 

**Jim:** _ dont eat! im gonna cook for you since youre my guest _

 

**Dwight:** _ You can cook? Always pegged you as a fast food kind of guy. _

 

Jim didn’t respond, and instead headed to the checkout line to get his book. Once finished, he headed to the nearest grocery store. Jim shopped using a recipe he quickly looked up, bought small amounts of everything he needed. Jim wasn’t sure what was actually in his kitchen since he’d never cooked anything there, they had people to do that for them. So he didn’t want to buy too much of anything, in case it would go bad from lack of use. Once he acquired everything he would need he headed home.

 

Traffic was slow so by time he arrived home it was 6:00 pm. He had to hurry if he wanted it done before Dwight arrived. He put his backpack down in his room and then went to the kitchen. The family chef, Jose, was cleaning up when entered. At the counter sat the pretty maid who brought Jim lunch on Saturday; he wasn’t sure of her name.

 

“Jim, how are you,” Jose asked. Jim shrugged and held up the bags of groceries he had. “I’m fine. Do you mind if I use the kitchen?” Jose looked ready to protest, but instead said, “Don’t you want to join your family for dinner? They’re eating right now.”

 

“No, I have a guest coming over soon and I wanted to cook for them.” Jose nodded.

 

“Do you want me to help you? Can you cook, Jim?”

 

“I can!” Jim was serviceable at best, but no one needed to know that. It was the thought that count. Jose ushered the maid out of the kitchen. “Just be sure to clean up when you’re finished,” Jose called out and Jim nodded.

 

First Jim looked for a chopping board, and then a rice cooker. One he found both he set them up on the counter. He plugged the rice cooker in, poured the white rice he bought into it and added water. He then washed the beef he bought off and thinly sliced it. Once finished he put it in a skillet with a bit of oil and let it cook. He rinsed the chopping board off and then cut up a bunch of carrots, cucumbers, and spinach. Once finished with that added the vegetables along with bean sprouts to a different skillet. Once the meat and the vegetables were finished he removed them from the skillets and placed them in their own containers. He washed both skillets out but put one back on the stove; the other one went into the dishwasher. He cracked two eggs into the skillet, hoping to make them sunny side up. Unfortunately the yolks ran together and mixed in with the whites, so Jim scrambled them instead. Once finished with that Jim added the eggs to a small bowl and put a lid on it. Then he cleaned the skillet out and put it into the dishwasher. He checked on the rice cooker. There wasn’t any water left in it which Jim took to mean the rice was finished. He unplugged it, and began cleaning up after himself.

 

Jim checked his phone. It was 6:45 pm so Dwight would be here in fifteen minutes. Dwight was always prompt so Jim wasn’t worried about him being late. Jim noticed he had a text from Pete, so he checked it.

  
  


**Pete:** _Hey Jim! I just heard from Larissa that she was coming to town and wanted to hang out. I’ll take Friday off then. I’m thinking we can all head up to Camelback Mountain and go skiing before the weather breaks. How does that sound?_

 

Jim couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. Instead he replied:

 

**Jim:** _ yeah, that sounds great! i havent been skiing in a while so it should be fun! _

 

Pete texted him back immediately.

 

**Pete:** _ Okay, cool! I’m sure Larissa told Tom, but I’m positive he’s not coming, so don’t worry too much. This will be great, I’ve been wanting a break from Marcy and Vanessa for a while now!  _

 

**Jim:** _ hey! marcy and vanessa are great people, just wonderful _

 

**Pete:** _ Just wait until you have a 5 yr old and a pregnant wife. Then you’d understand. _

 

**Pete:** _ Do you know why Larissa is coming though? It seems like such short notice. _

 

**Jim:** _ yeah, i found her paintings in my art studio and she freaked out. _

 

**Pete:** _ What? Larissa didn’t paint, that was always your thing. What did they look like? _

 

**Jim:** _ fucking weird man.  _

 

Jim sent Pete some of the photos he took of Larissa’s paintings. Pete called him  _ immediately  _ after Jim sent the photos, but he ignored it.

 

 **Jim:** _im a bit busy, my friend is coming over. just text me._

 

**Pete:** _ I forgot Larissa made those things. Are you okay? _

 

Jim was sick of being asked if he were okay. Was anyone besides him concerned about Larissa’s well being? Shouldn’t she have been more triggered by this than he was?

 

**Jim:** _ im fine! why did she paint these? was she depressed or something _ ?

 

**Pete:** _ I believe so. I don’t know the full story though. I can’t wait to see you next week Jimbo! :D _

 

Pete was such a weirdo. Jim put his phone away and divided the food into two separate bowls. He added hot pepper paste to the side of both of them and then cleaned the containers out before popping them into the dishwasher. There, now it looked like he was never here. His phone rang and Jim prayed it wasn’t Pete calling him again. Instead it was Dwight. Jim answered it and headed to the front door. 

 

“Hey, Jim, I’m outside. Where should I park?”

 

“The circle drive is fine!” Jim opened the door and waited for Dwight to come in. “Your place is huge,” Dwight said, looking around. “If a burglar or spy hid in here you’d never know. They’d just kill you.”

 

“Thanks, Dwight. I can always count on you to take things to the weirdest extreme.” Jim reached for Dwight’s bag, but he pulled it out of reach. “I can carry it, Jim. Where’s your room?”

 

“Let me carry it, Dwight. You’re my guest.”

 

“Nonsense, Jim. You’ve opened up your freakishly huge home to me, the least I could do is carry my own luggage.”

 

“Dwight, let’s not have a repeat of last week, okay?” Dwight handed his bag over to Jim and followed him to his room. Jim sat the bag down on the ottoman at the end of his bed. He watched Dwight explore his room. “Wow, even your room is big! You have a living room in your room!”

 

“Watch this,” Jim said. He pulled a remote from out of his nightstand and clicked it. The fireplace he seldom used turned on. He pressed another button and the wall above the fireplace opened to show a huge tv. Dwight watched in awe. “I’d never leave my room, if this were my room.”

 

“I think that was my parents’ goal.”

 

Jim directed Dwight to the kitchen, and handed him a bowl of the food he made.

 

“What is this,” Dwight asked.

 

“Bibimbap,” Jim said slowly, not wanting to butcher it. “I figured since we were watching a Korean drama that we could also eat Korean food?” Jim led Dwight back to his room and to his couch.

 

“That’s cute, Jim.”

 

“Okay, then eat it.” Dwight looked at the food in his hands. He had never seen bibimbap before, or any Korean food actually, but it looked good. Dwight looked up a picture of bibimbap while Jim tried connecting his laptop to his tv. It looked similar to what he saw on Google Images, although Jim scrambled his egg instead of making it sunny side up. Dwight bit into, and found it wasn’t bad. He was sorry he doubted Jim’s skills even for a moment.

 

“Do you like it,” Jim called, still trying to connect the tv to the internet. “I do, it’s better than I expected!”

 

“That’s good. Don’t hesitate to eat mine either.”

 

“I’ll leave it for you.” Jim finally got the tv hooked up to the internet and went straight to Viki. “Alright Dwight, this is your chance to back out. We can watch anything you want, it doesn’t have to be  _ Goblin _ . Your choice.”

 

“I want to watch your show, Jim. Do you think I would have agreed to it if I didn’t?”

 

“...maybe. I’ll start from the beginning then.”

 

Jim sat down next to Dwight and hit play. Dwight shifted to close the gap between them.  He slowly put his arm around Jim, and pulled him closer. In return Jim put his head on Dwight’s shoulder. Dwight grinned, and turned to the tv. They made it through half of the first episode before Jim spoke. “Dwight, do you think there’s something off about me?”

 

Dwight wasn’t sure how to answer. He did, but he didn’t want to upset Jim when he was in a good mood. Besides, he thought that Jim’s diagnosis confirmed that there was something off. “I mean, before last year. Did you think I was off,” he clarified.

 

“No, I only noticed when you came back,” Dwight replied honestly. “What made you ask?” 

 

“I ran into Angela earlier. She apologized and said she was having trouble with medication she was taking and that’s why she screamed at me on Monday. When I told her about my diagnosis she said it made sense in hindsight because I always came across as being off to her. Apparently I do to everyone else in the office too.” It extremely bothered Jim that other people thought he was crazy, especially at a point when he didn’t realize it himself.

 

“I wouldn’t say that’s true. Angela’s super conscious about these things, she used to make up fantasy diagnoses for everyone in the office because it made her feel better about her illness. I can guarantee that nobody thought you were off, at least, not until recently. Even then, it wasn’t anything more than thinking you had ADHD or something.”

 

“She was shocked I had BPD. What did she think I had?”

 

“An antisocial personality disorder. Outside of your pranks and being glib, it didn’t sound anything like you. But then, she thought Pam was a narcissist and that Michael was schizophrenic. She’s not a psychologist.”

 

“I’m sorry for pranking you so much,” Jim said. He turned and wrapped his arms around Dwight’s torso, before doing the same with his legs. “I couldn’t even tell you why I did it. I guess I just liked your reaction. It was really rude, I’d hate it if someone did that to me years on end.”

 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing for it, I forgive you. Like I said before, I enjoyed the attention. You put in all that effort for little ole me. It was flattering that you cared so much.”

 

Jim didn’t want to talk about himself anymore, he felt that he was monopolizing the conversation. “How’s the farm doing? What do you do during the winter? Can you still grow stuff?”

 

“The farm’s alright. Hmm, I don’t grow anything during the winter, so it’s a bit slow. Some people can but I don’t, since I focus mostly on wheat and beets. But I still have animals I need to care for, like chickens, goats, pigs, horses, and cows, so right now I mostly focus on that. Soon it’ll be time for me to start laying fertilizer and preparing the soil.”

 

“Do you do all of that by yourself? Do you use machines or anything?”

 

“Yeah, we use machines. But I don’t do it all by myself, I have farmhands who help out. Mose oversees them while I’m at work.”

 

“That sounds expensive,” Jim said. 

 

“It’s a profitable farm, we make a lot of money come fall.”

 

“If you don’t mind me asking, but why do you work at Dunder Mifflin if your farm is doing so well?”

 

“Well, it wasn’t always my farm, I inherited it after my grandfather died. Besides, I have goals for myself at both Dunder Mifflin and the farm, and I want to see them through before I decide to give up one.”

 

“Regional Manager,” Jim guessed and Dwight nodded. The two sat quiet after that, and continued to watch the show. Dwight would never admit it, but he was a little invested in the show. He’d probably continue it once he left. They were currently only on the third episode, and with a runtime of an hour and a half per episode Dwight didn’t think they’d be finishing it tonight. He looked over, Jim was slumped over on the couch, dead asleep. Dwight smiled at how peaceful he looked. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Jim’s head at the moment, and it made Dwight feel useless. He wanted to help him, but wasn’t sure how. The most he could do at this point was make sure Jim stayed consistent in his treatments, but even then, he couldn’t overstep his boundaries. He and Jim weren’t together. At least, not yet.

 

Dwight paused the show, and made a mental note of where he could find it. He picked Jim up bridal style and carried him to his bed. He was concerned over how easy it was. He assumed Jim would be the same weight as him, but he felt much lighter. He dropped Jim in the bed, a bit rougher than he intended. 

 

“Ughhh,” Jim stirred. Dwight rubbed his head softly, trying to get him to go back to sleep. Jim caught his hand. “What are you doing,” Jim asked tiredly. Dwight leaned down and kissed Jim’s forehead, and replied, “Trying to get you back to sleep.”

 

“I don’t wanna sleep. I actually thought we could do something else.”

 

“Like what,” Dwight asked. Jim pulled Dwight down until he collapsed on top of him. He took Dwight’s face in his hands and kissed him. Dwight shifted his body so that he was straddling Jim. He took control of the kiss and deepened it. His bit down on Jim’s bottom lip, forcing him to open his mouth wider. Jim gasped but otherwise didn’t fight the intrusion. Instead Jim threading his hands into Dwight’s hair, pulling the man closer.

 

After a while Dwight broke the kiss apart. He stood to use Jim’s bathroom, he had a problem he wanted to take care of. “May I use your shower,” he asked Jim, who looked up at him in confusion. “Yeah, you can, but weren’t we in the middle of something?”

 

“You wanted a kiss and I gave it to you.” Jim rolled his eyes. “Actually, I wanted you to fuck me, but if you’re more content to jack off in the shower then fine!” He rolled over, facing away from Dwight. Dwight climbed back on top of Jim. He grabbed his face and checked his eyes. They didn’t look as glassy and lifeless as they did last week, but he was still afraid to take advantage of Jim in case his judgment was impaired in any way.

 

“What are you doing,” Jim questioned.

 

“Are you sure,” Dwight asked instead. Jim nodded. “I recall you telling me you’d be a better lay than Roy was, remember? Let’s find out.” Dwight’s expression darkened. He hated being reminded of the fact that Roy was Jim’s first time with another guy. It should have been him. Dwight reached into his back pocket, and pulled out packets of condoms.

 

“Do you have lube,” Dwight asked.

 

“No. Is there anything else that would work? Spit? Don’t people usually do that?”

 

“Jim, you do not want me to use spit as lube. Trust me. You’d hate me afterwards. Do you have aloe vera?”

 

“It’s in the bathroom, under the sink.” Dwight got up to retrieve the aloe vera, stripping himself of his clothes as he went. He had to do his best to keep himself from touching his aching dick. He had been waiting, dreaming for this moment since Jim’s first day at Dunder Mifflin. Now it was here. He was going to have sex with Jim Halpert, the longtime object of his affections. Dwight found the aloe vera and padded back into the room. 

 

When he got back Jim was already naked also. He covered the lower half of his body with his blanket, trying to keep warm. One of his legs was under him, with the other dangling off the edge of the bed. His eyes were half lidded, although Dwight figured it was still from him being tired and not particularly horny. Still, Dwight found the entire picture to be sexy.

 

“Dwight, you’re way more ripped than I expected you to be,” Jim said as way of greeting. Dwight scoffed. “This is a body carefully sculpted by years of martial arts, bear hunting, and cosmic training. I don’t know why you expected otherwise.”

 

“Cosmic training huh,” Jim laughed. 

 

“Yes, cosmic training. I’ve crafted my position as the center of the universe, and now my toned core keeps our planet in orbit. It’s such a burden to carry.” Jim laughed even harder, and Dwight smiled. He flopped down on the bed next to Jim and yanked the blanket off of him. He pulled on Jim’s leg, holsting himself up. He then pulled Jim into his lap. He grabbed for the condoms he left on the bed earlier, and ripped two off of the row. He ripped them again and tossed one towards Jim.

 

“Why do I need this,” Jim asked.

 

“It makes clean up so much easier, trust me.” Jim unwrapped it and slipped it on, with Dwight doing the same. 

 

“Dwight, wait! Before we start I have to do something.” Jim jumped up and walked around his bed, taking his top blanket with him. He moved to the other nightstand on the opposite side of his bed, where the bear Dwight won for him resided. “I can’t have Professor Bear-wight watching us! He’s just too pure.” Jim turned the stuffed bear around so it faced the wall. It was Dwight’s turn to laugh, “Bear-wight, really?”

 

“He resembles a certain someone,” said Jim, sitting down next to Dwight again. 

Dwight started kissing Jim’s neck, sucking and nipping on it in different intervals. Jim moaned. He kissed down Jim’s torso, and then his thighs. He took Jim’s hard dick into his mouth, eliciting moans from the man above him. Jim threaded his fingers into Dwight’s hair, but held them there. 

 

“Dwight, that feels so good,” Jim breathed out. It took all of his power to keep from forcing Dwight’s head down, or from blowing his load too soon. Instead he let Dwight set the pace, which proved torturous. 

 

“Dwight...Dwight...I’m so close,” Jim whined. At that Dwight pulled off of Jim’s dick, and looked up at him smugly.

 

“You’re denying me this? Seriously?”

 

“No, I just want us to cum at the same time. Just hold on for a bit longer.” Dwight grabbed the bottle of aloe vera and squeezed some out on to his fingers. He stuck one finger into Jim’s rear, which drew a gasp from the man.

 

“Don’t worry, this is to ease the pain,” said Dwight. 

 

“I’ve done this before,” Jim deadpanned, still uncomfortable.

 

“Well, I guess Anderson isn’t a complete beast,” Dwight replied, earning a laugh from Jim. He loosened up greatly, enough for Dwight to insert another finger, which gave him an idea.

 

“Knock knock,” Dwight called, still fingering and scissoring Jim. Jim groaned, not from the penetration, but rather Dwight’s attempt to tell a joke during sex.

 

“What?”

 

“You have to say “who’s there”,” Dwight insisted. Jim rolled his eyes.

 

“Who’s there?”

 

“Orange.” Dwight slipped a third finger in. If Jim noticed then he didn’t say anything. 

 

“Orange you glad I’m prepping you?” Jim looked at Dwight with the most unimpressed look he could muster, but chuckled despite himself. “You’re so corny, Dwight.”

 

“But you like me anyways,” Dwight replied. Jim blushed. “Yeah, I do,” he said honestly. He then noticed that Dwight was working him open with three fingers. “Wait, how’d you do that, I didn’t even notice.”

 

“I guess my corny joke distracted you.” Dwight pulled all three fingers out, and lined himself up with Jim’s entrance. He pushed in slowly. Dwight leaned over and kissed Jim chastely on the lips, before kissing him on both cheeks, and then the forehead, and then on his eyes. All the while Dwight inched in slowly. Before long Dwight was seated fully inside of Jim, causing the younger man the squirm underneath him.

 

“Just move Dwight,” Jim pleaded.

 

“I want you to get comfortable to the feeling of—.”

 

“Move!” Dwight had always responded to leadership well. So he started pistoling his hips slowly, rocking his dick in and out of Jim’s body. Jim clawed at Dwight’s back, before pulling him down, trying to gain more friction. Dwight picked up the pace, causing Jim to moan louder. Dwight nuzzled his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, feeling his orgasm approaching. He began pumping Jim’s dick, hoping for him to finish at the same time. 

 

“Dwight,” Jim rang out, cumming into his condom. Dwight himself came after a few more thrusts. Dwight removed himself Jim, and rolled over beside him.

 

“How was that,” Dwight asked.

 

“Really good! I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help, you did all of the work. Can I give you a blow job at least?” Dwight snorted.

 

“This isn’t the time for your incessant apologies, Jim. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Dwight removed both and Jim’s condoms. tied them and threw them in the wastebasket in the bathroom. He then went to retrieve his toiletries and sleepwear from his bag, while Jim fished through his large closet for clean pajamas. They both went to the bathroom, and took a shower together. They fooled around a bit, with Jim making good on his promise to give Dwight a blowjob. Once clean and dressed, the two padded back into Jim’s room, and got into bed.

 

“So who was better,” Dwight asked. Jim just smiled at him serenely.

 

“I’m not telling you that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“If I say it was you then you’ll text Roy boasting the minute I fall asleep, and then the two of you will fight come Monday. If I say Roy then you’ll fight him on Monday anyways.” Jim leaned over and kissed Dwight on his lips to placate him.

 

“You’re not a fan of fighting, huh?”

 

“I just don’t like seeing someone throw their weight around to intimidate others. There are very few reasons to fight someone, you know? There’s no pointing in beating up other people.”

 

“What about wrestling, or MMA, or boxing?”

 

“I hate them,” said Jim sleepily. They both started to drift off to sleep, but a knock at Jim’s door roused them both. Dwight looked at Jim quizzically. 

 

“Maybe it’s a housekeeper,” Jim guessed. “They wouldn’t be here this late though.”

 

The knocking got louder, so Jim climbed out of bed to see who it was. He cracked open the door, and saw his father staring back at him. He looked pissed, like he caught Jim doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.  _ No fucking way _ Jim thought. There was absolutely no way his parents heard him having sex, their room was way on the other side of the house. 

 

His father reached through the door and grabbed his arm. He pulled him outside into the hallway, and against the opposite wall. “Jim,” Dwight called out worriedly, afraid his burglar theory was coming true. “Go to your mother and I’s room, Jim,” his father commanded. He then charged into Jim’s room.

 

“No! What the fuck?” Jim tried tackling his father, but he ended up bouncing off of him. He had no idea what he was expecting, if professional football players couldn’t tackle his father then his skinny ass couldn’t either. Dwight jumped up and dodged Jim’s massive father. Jim picked himself up and grabbed his father’s arm. His father tried pulling away, ready to attack Dwight, but Jim bit him. Hard.

 

“Are you seriously biting me? You haven’t done that since you were four!”

 

“Leave Dwight alone,” was Jim’s muffled reply. His father tried yanking free once more, before giving up. He didn’t want to hurt Jim’s mouth or teeth. 

 

“I cannot sit around and let this man defile my child! What were you thinking?!” Jim unlatched his mouth from his father’s arm, but instead attached himself to his leg, looking up at him angrily. In any other circumstance Dwight would have found the sight funny, but right now it was just uncomfortable.

 

Jim’s father looked at his son regretfully. He bent down, and shook Jim off of him. He then began checking over his son for bruises or marks. Jim flailed underneath him all the while. Again, it was a scene that Dwight would have found funny in any other situation, but right now he was uncomfortable. He one hundred percent understood why Jim found his parents unbearable.

 

“Get out! Leave me the fuck alone,” Jim shouted, kicking at his father. His father stood up and let him, as if the kicks to his shin didn’t hurt. Dwight stepped in to help, fearing this would be the beginning of another episode for Jim. Instead, Jim’s father stepped up to him. Dwight braced himself to be hit. Instead, Jim’s father checked his neck and collarbone.  _ This is so fucking weird  _ thought Dwight. Satisfied with the lack of wounds on his neck, Jim’s father stepped away and moved to the door.

 

“Listen boy, I don’t know who you are, but don’t come back around here. Get the fuck outta my house before I get my gun. You have fifteen minutes. And stay away from Jim. Jim, come to our room after your  _ guest  _ leaves. We have a lot to talk about.”

 

“No! You cannot continue to treat me like a child!”

 

“You  _ are _ a child! You are my child!”

 

“I am an adult! Why don’t you seem to understand this?”

 

“As long as you live under this roof then you are a child.” 

 

“That’s fine! Let me leave and then I won’t be under your roof!”

 

Jim’s father ignored him and gave Dwight a nasty glare before mouthing, “Fifteen minutes.” He left the room, slamming the door shut.

 

Dwight kneeled beside Jim. “I’m so sorry Dwight, I didn’t think this would happen,” said Jim, misty eyed. “I don’t know how he knew that we were having sex. I’m so, so, so sorry.” Dwight lifted Jim’s head by his chin and kissed him.

 

“I think I have an idea of how, but you won’t like it,” replied Dwight. Jim wiped his eyes.

 

“How?” Dwight moved to his bag, and pulled out a square device. Dwight handed it over to Jim. “I bought this for you. It’s a spy cam checker. I thought you could use it to check to see if you’d find cameras the production crew may have planted. I hoped it would help you get a peace of mind about whether they were following you. However, I think you may need to use it now.”

 

“You think my parents have my room bugged and are spying on me,” Jim asked dejectedly. Dwight didn’t answer, but instead turned the device on for Jim. “It’ll beep if it finds anything.” He helped Jim up and grabbed his hand, trying to comfort him. The device beeped when they stood next to Jim’s nightstand. Dwight checked the lamp on top of the nightstand. There was a small camera in it, easy to miss unless one was actually looking for it.

 

“Oh god,” Jim said, looking ashened. They continued to walk around the room. They found another one in a painting on Jim’s wall, one embedded in the wall itself, one on his work table, one of his bookshelf, and one on embedded in the wall near his closet.  They had found six cameras already, and had only covered half of his room.

 

Jim slid to the floor and started bawling into his knees. Dwight sat next to him, trying this hardest to comfort him. However Jim wouldn't stop crying. Dwight feared that Jim’s father would be back with a gun soon so he got up and went to Jim’s closet. He found a duffel bag in back and grabbed it. He grabbed a ton of Jim’s clothes and threw it in the bag, along with socks and underwear. He also grabbed the first coat he saw, an expensive looking Sherpa jacket he had never seen Jim wear before. No doubt his parents bought it for him. He moved to the bathroom and grabbed Jim’s toothbrush, face wash, and medication and put it in the bag too. He had plenty of other toiletries at home for Jim to use, so he didn’t concern himself with them. When he walked out of the bathroom he saw Jim still in the middle of the floor, still crying. The sight made Dwight’s heart hurt. He had no idea what the fuck was up with Jim’s parents, but he had no doubt in his mind that they were contributing to Jim’s mental decline.

 

“Jim, we have to go. Put on your shoes.” He pulled Jim up off of the ground and wiped at his eyes for him. Jim looked absolutely devastated, to the point that it hurt Dwight to look at him, the emotion was so strong. He draped the jacket over Jim’s shoulders and watched as he put it on. Jim shuffled to find shoes and socks in his closet before coming back. He grabbed his laptop and Dwight’s bag from the ottoman and followed Dwight out of the room.

 

They walked outside easily enough; both had expected Jim’s father to intercept them and try to hold Jim hostage. “I’ll follow you in my car,” Jim said and Dwight nodded. Dwight moved to start his car, but stopped when he noticed Jim was having trouble starting his.  _ Isn’t this a brand new truck  _ Dwight thought. Jim gave him a look that said he was thinking the same thing too. The truck wouldn’t turn over whatsoever. When Dwight got close spy cam detector went off. Dwight could see the panic on Jim’s face. There was a camera in the truck too. Dwight himself was starting to feel ill, he couldn’t even imagine how Jim felt.

 

The radio came on. “Hi sweetie, please come back inside, we can talk this over,” said a feminine voice. Jim turned it off and turned to Dwight. After a brief moment the radio roared back to life. “I can explain the cameras, and in turn you can explain why you haven’t been to work all week. I think we should all be honest with one another.” Dwight and Jim looked at each other, realization slowly dawning in their faces: Jim’s parents had been tracking him using this truck. They specifically bought him this truck with the intention of using it to monitor him, and not out of misplaced goodwill like they thought before. It probably wasn’t starting because his parents didn’t want him to leave. 

 

“Mom, why are you doing this,” Jim asked brokenly. Dwight hugged him. He hated seeing Jim so utterly defeated. “Get away from my son you freak,” the discombobulated voice shouted. “Jim, I told you to stop associating with this man!” Obviously the Halperts didn’t take kindly to him sleeping with their adult son. The angry voice only made Dwight pull Jim closer. He help Jim out of the giant truck and into his Trans Am. He peeled away from the house before his car could sufficiently warm up, disturbed by the turn of events.

 

Jim sat silent the for most of the ride. “They hate me,” he said suddenly. “They hate me, it’s the only explanation. I don’t know what I did to deserve this! If they hate me so much then why can’t I just leave?”

 

“I don’t think they hate you, Jim. If anything, they love you a lot in their own warped way. That’s why their keeping such a close eye on you.”

 

“No, they have to. I can’t make sense of their behavior otherwise. They let me go to college, only to ruin the entire experience. I graduate, and I’m not allow to get a job in my field or pursue higher education. I get a job, but I can’t live by myself. I get to live by myself, but they check in on me consistently. I leave, and they do their best to drag me back. I move back home, and they’re monitoring me. Why? Why are they doing any of this? I don’t understand.”

 

Dwight didn’t have an answer for him. Everything that happened was just too much for Dwight to comprehend. All this time Jim thought the production crew was tailing him, when in fact it was his parents. For how long had they been doing that? Since he forced to move back in, or did it start after college? Did they do this to him when we was a child? Dwight could see where the paranoia stemmed from. Jim must have subconsciously realized something was off, and attributed it to the production staff. Dwight would be paranoid of them too, if this were the situation he were living in.

 

“I can’t trust anyone,” Jim said. “Everyone’s following me, the camera crew, my parents, Roy. Are you following me?”

 

“No, I’m not. I respect your personal boundaries. Besides I have my own life to live, I can’t just follow you all day, at least not without your permission. What’s this about Anderson following you though?”

 

“Roy has been cyber and in real life stalking me for years now, that’s why he knows everything about me. My alma mater, my hobbies, where I live. Things I don’t tell people about myself.” Dwight took a deep breath and tried to control his face. He was going to beat Roy’s ass, Jim’s bleeding, pacifist heart be damned. He couldn’t believe Roy was actually following Jim when we specifically expressed that he had a fear of people following him. Was he fucking nuts?

 

“Roy alluded to the fact that he saw me throw my lunch into the woods last week,” Jim continued. “My father did too. I wondered then how he could have saw that, but I figured he was in the woods when I threw it. That didn’t line up when Roy told me saw me do the same. Surely he would have seen my father and vice versa. But to have cameras in my room...they watched me have sex with you.”

 

“Let’s hope not, and assume they just put two and two together. Surely they wouldn’t have sat through that, they have other things to do with their lives.”

 

“They have no lives other than to make sure I don’t have one! They’ve always been this way, it’s just gotten worse since I graduated high school.” Dwight wasn’t sure how to respond, there was nothing he could say that would comfort Jim.

 

“I destroyed my room last week, I wonder if they saw that.”

 

“What?”

 

“Destroyed might be a stretch. I had a meltdown I guess and ripped up a dozen or so books. That’s when I tossed the food over my balcony, they always try to force me to eat.”

 

“Why would you do that,” Dwight asked.

 

“I had no need for the books, they were all about education and reform. What’s the point if I’m going to be a paper salesman for the rest of my life?”

 

“Don’t talk like that, Jim.”

 

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing wrong with selling paper, that was rude of me.”

 

“No, I mean you won’t be at Dunder Mifflin your whole life. I think you’ll make a fine teacher, your day will soon come.”

 

“Thanks,” replied Jim. He didn’t sound like he really believed Dwight.

 

They arrived at Schrute Farm. Dwight led Jim up the stairs and into his room. He put Jim’s bag down on his dresser. “You can sleep here, I’ll take the guest room down the hall, my bed is much larger,” said Dwight. Jim shook his head. “Can you sleep here too? I kinda don’t want to be alone.”

 

“You sure?” Jim nodded. Dwight took off his coat and shoes and climbed into bed, with Jim following. They laid facing each other, studying one another’s face. “Thank you, Dwight. You could have left me there, but you didn’t. I appreciate it.”

 

“I wouldn’t, that would have been cruel. Even if we didn’t find those cameras, you’d be coming with me. I’m sorry you have to deal with that on a daily basis.”

 

“I’m not sure what to do at this point,” Jim admitted. “They’re not going to let me walk away so easily.”

 

“Stay here as long as you like. We can work something out in the morning, but for now just sleep.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, you'd probably slowly go insane if you had Jim's parents too. Soon we'll get to the root of their actions.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight gains more insight into Jim, while Pam enters the fold. Roy does what Roy does best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has not been beta read. If you see any mistakes let me know!

Jim woke at the ass crack of dawn. Despite yesterday being his most turbulent night ever Jim could not find it in himself to break his warped sleeping schedule. Instead he crept out of bed and down the stairs. He headed towards the kitchen, figuring he’d at least make Dwight breakfast for putting up with him. He remembered Dwight had a cousin, and while Jim hadn’t met him yet he was bound to be hungry at some point too. He raided the fridge and pantry until he found something he could make. He’d settle for making eggs and bacon. He found biscuit mix, grits, and some vegetables to add to the eggs. He tried to work as quietly as possible, not wanting anyone to stir.

 

He set plates and mugs on the table, and put the food in the oven to keep it warm. He moved to Dwight’s coffee machine and turned it on. It made a loud sputtering sound and Jim cursed under his breath, hoping the noise didn’t resonant throughout the house. Undeterred he continued making coffee while waiting to see if anyone would come into the kitchen. He left the coffee in the pot and sat at the table.

 

He thought back to last night. What should have been a good night ended up being a nightmare from hell. His parents were stalking him. Jim knew they were extremely intrusive and clingy. He knew that in college, when his father was his roommate. He knew that when his father found his address last year with nothing but a phone number. But still, they got what they wanted, he lived at home. So why did they feel the need to track his every move at home and outside it? What did they hope to gain? He could not deal with being monitored at home _and_ at work.  Was the production crew following him connected to his parents following him? They came a year after he started, when he was allowed to move out. Maybe they were hired by his parents to follow him? _That makes a lot of sense_ Jim thought paranoidly. The production crew were definitely hired by his parents. There was no documentary, there never was one. He wanted to journal his thoughts but he typically did that on his laptop or phone, both of which were upstairs in Dwight’s room. He didn’t want to risk waking him up. Instead he let his negative thoughts fester.

 

Dwight. God, he had witnessed how messy Jim and his family really were. Why was it that all three of his solo dates with Dwight ended in disaster? He didn’t even know how come back from last night. Dwight watched him throw a temper tantrum before having _another_ full blown breakdown. He couldn’t face Dwight! Dwight probably hated him now, and Jim couldn’t blame him. He’d been a mess on all of their dates, and he had treated Dwight poorly before that. Why the hell did he like him? He didn’t, he probably just pitied Jim. Or better yet, maybe this was a prank on Dwight’s part. That made sense too. Yeah, Dwight didn’t actually like Jim, he was just fucking with him the way Jim did him. Jim could feel his anger flaring up. Of course this was a joke! Dwight had found his perfect revenge! Jim knocked the plate and mug in front of him off of the table and watched them shatter against the floor. Great, that accomplished nothing except potentially waking the house up. He sighed and stood to clean up his mess.

 

He found a broom and dustpan and swept up the shards of glass. He tossed them in the kitchen trash can and stared at his handiwork. Dr. Padukone was one hundred percent right about him, he had no control over his emotions. Now he was destroying dishes at someone else’s home. He needed to man up, if this were a long con run by Dwight then he deserved it. He had pranked Dwight for all those years, he could take one little prank. But then why come over and sleep with him? Would he have taken his prank that far? Dwight had a mean and vengeful streak, but he wasn’t possibly that mean, right? He was pretty gentle last night, if he wanted to harm Jim then he had plenty opportunity to do so. And if he were that mean then he would have left Jim at home yesterday, after he was thoroughly embarrassed by his family. Jim didn’t have a fucking clue, and now he could feel all of his emotions trying to spill over the surface. Didn’t he cry enough yesterday? He wasn’t about to right now. Instead he ignored the tighten in his chest and sat back down at the table. He rested his head against it tried curbing his intrusive thoughts. _God, just let today be a good day._

 

That was how Dwight found him thirty minutes later, face down on his kitchen table. “Jim, are you alright,” Dwight called. He tapped Jim on the shoulder, and the younger man rocketed up. He took stock of Jim’s wet eyes and the wet table underneath him. “Why were you up so early,” asked Dwight. Jim looked at the clock, it was only 6:30 am. God was it early.

 

Jim shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, my mind was racing.” Dwight looked at him sadly.

 

“I’ll make us breakfast then, and you should eat it, you didn’t eat your dinner yesterday.”

 

“Oh! I already made breakfast.” Jim got up from the table and pulled the food from the oven. Thankfully keeping it in the oven at a low temperature helped keep the food warm, but he’d probably need to brew more coffee. Jim sat the food on top of the stove and grabbed the plates to ration it. “You should wake up your cousin, I made enough for him too.”

 

“That was thoughtful of you,” Dwight replied. He grabbed a plate for Jim; he noticed only his place wasn’t set. Jim noticed him looking and said, “I’m sorry, I accidentally dropped a plate and mug earlier. I can replace it.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a plate.” Dwight exited the room to get his cousin. He came back and sat at the table next to Jim. He watched Jim pick over his food, only taking small bites out of it here and there. “Not hungry,” Dwight asked. Jim shook his head.

 

“I should be, I don’t think I’ve eaten since Thursday afternoon. But I always feel full, I’m not sure why. Logically I know I should eat do I don’t kneel over and die but I can’t force myself to.”

 

“It’s probably anxiety making you feel that way. Hopefully your medication helps with it. You could also try eating softer foods that’ll go down easier, like applesauce or broths.”

 

“You’re very patient, Dwight,” Jim commented. He managed to polish off his eggs, but didn’t think he could hold onto anything else.

 

“My younger sister has depression, so I know how it affects people quite a bit. She had the same problem eating too, she wasn’t purposely starving herself, but she couldn’t hold anything down. And then Angela is bipolar, and had problems with food too.” Dwight pulled both Jim’s medication and his cell phone from his pajama pocket. He handed them both to Jim. Jim sat his phone down and took the one and a half recommended pills with a glass of water.

 

“I’m sorry I’m another set of problems for you. You shouldn’t have to be my handler or anything.” Dwight opened his mouth to say something, but his cousin chose that moment to enter the room.

 

“Hello,” said his cousin, staring down at Jim. “Who are you? I’m Mose.”

 

“I’m Jim! I work with Dwight at Dunder Mifflin.” Mose watched him intensely, and Jim got the feeling he wasn't making a good impression.

 

“The “irritating but cute” Jim,” Mose asked more to Dwight than Jim. Jim gasped while Dwight rubbed a hand over his face. It seemed that tactlessness ran in the Schrute family.

 

“Yeah, that’s me,” said Jim. “I made breakfast, if you want any.” Mose nodded and made himself a plate. They watched him eat in silence, before he piped up with, “This is a very adequate breakfast, Jim. Thank you. You’ll make a good Schrute housewife in the future. It’s unfortunate that you lack reproductive organs, although I suppose you both could adopt.” Jim just gawked at him, shocked at the turn of events. Dwight had his face buried in his hands, he was as embarrassed as Jim felt. “Now isn’t the time, Mose,” Dwight warned.

 

“I remember you,” said Mose, ignoring Dwight. “We went to the same high school. We were the same age but you were two years ahead of me. I think I have a yearbook with you in it, I’ll go find it.”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jim said nervously. “Go find it,” said Dwight, a large smile on his face. Mose got up and went to retrieve the yearbook.

 

“That’s crazy, I used to pick Mose up from school everyday. To think you went to school with him, and are the same age. I wonder if I ever saw you there. I’m fucking someone Mose went to school with.”

 

“That’s so creepy, Dwight,” Jim said, face burning red. “Does that not bother you, that I’m that much younger than you?”

 

“It’s only ten years, Jim. Besides, we’re both adults now. I can guarantee that I was not creeping on high school students, it was a joke.”

 

“God, I’m sorry, I know it was a joke. I just made everything weird, sorry.” Dwight reached over and patted Jim on the head.

 

“Let’s play a game, Jim. Or maybe it’s more of a challenge. Do you think you could beat me?” Jim rolled his eyes at Dwight’s change in demeanor. “What is it?”

 

“What word do you think I say the most often?” The question surprised Jim, and he thought back to what he thought Dwight mentioned the most. He was very unpredictable, so Jim had trouble pinpointing and common words Dwight used. “I dunno, I’d guess “beets” or “manager” or “Michael”. Maybe “rules” too.” Dwight snorted.

 

“Okay, I say “beets” and “manager” a lot. The challenge is that I won’t say those words anymore, not unless you crack before I do. They’re now officially removed from my vocabulary. So now I’m picking the word I don’t want you to say, any clue what it is?” Jim shook his head, he had no idea.

 

“It’s “sorry”. Let’s throw in “apologize” too so you don’t work around it. I don’t want to hear you say sorry or apologize while this challenge is going. Now those words are out of your vocabulary.”

 

“But what do I say if I need to apol… admit I was wrong and ask forgiveness?”

 

“Absolutely nothing. You apologize for the dumbest of things. Stop beating up on yourself and trying to please everyone. You don’t have to say sorry for everything, especially when you haven’t done anything wrong.”

 

“I’m sorry,” said Jim. Dwight pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. “You’ve already lost, Jim. Now we’re going to start over. I’m holding you accountable, okay? Now start.” Jim smiled at him.

 

“Okay, I’ll try my hardest this time.”

 

Mose came back in with a yearbook from the 2009-2010 school year. That would have been Jim’s senior year and Mose’s sophomore year. Jim sighed and cracked it open, Dwight leaning over the table to look. “Okay, I’m not going to...ask for forgiveness, but I was kind of dweeby and nerdy in high school, okay? I didn’t glow up yet so be nice.” They looked at Jim’s cap and gown photo first. Dwight thought Jim looked cute, he still had visible baby fat on his cheeks, and braces with bands that matched the school colors. But he could also see the handsomeness that would become more pronounced as Jim got older. He had no idea what Jim was complaining about. Underneath the picture The was a standard quote, along with the school Jim planned on attending and his GPA. He went to UPenn, and graduated with a 4.3 and was the valedictorian. That shocked Dwight. He knew Jim was smart, but he was often lazy and unmotivated to do anything with his intelligence. Obviously that was only as recent as him coming to Dunder Mifflin, if Jim made it through high school and then an Ivy League school with flawless grades.

 

Next, they looked at the activities photos. Jim played basketball and ran cross country. Nothing shocking, Dwight already knew Jim was athletic. What surprised him were the pictures of Jim in the art club, the National Honors Society, French club, 4-H, Educators Rising, Quiz Bowl, and robotics. He was even the president or leader of a few of them. Other pictures showed that Jim was a National Merit Scholar and was the homecoming king. Jim was not only seriously smart, but he had been an overachiever at one point. Dwight could not wrap his mind around that fact.

 

He looked up and saw Jim watching him, and not looking at the yearbook. Dwight could tell Jim was waiting to see if he were judging him. Dwight kept his face neutral, he knew Jim would be hurt if he even hinted that he thought of him differently. He did though, and not in a bad way. Dwight didn’t know much about what Jim got up to before he came to Dunder Mifflin. He knew he went to college, and was from the area, but that was the extent of it. The bulk of what he knew about Jim’s past was from knowledge he acquired over the past two weeks, and even then Jim had been reluctant to give him that information. Did Jim hate working at Dunder Mifflin so much that he changed to being a fundamentally different person, or was it something else? He seemed to have shifted from Type-A to Type-B from the moment he entered the workforce. He knew people grew up and changed, but this seemed extreme.

 

“I know what your thinking, “Why are you so lazy now?” Honestly, I have no idea. I don’t see the point I guess? What goals am I aiming for now? I didn’t get the job I wanted, didn’t get a life, didn’t get the girl….What’s the point?”

 

Dwight had being thinking that, or some form of that, but he wouldn’t tell him that. Instead he said, “Actually, I was thinking about how you should have been friends with Mose in school. He could have used your positive influence.” Dwight leaned over and exaggeratedly whispered, “Mose did _awful_ in school!” That elicited a smile from Jim while Mose groaned. Mose put his dish in the sink and left the room, leaving Jim and Dwight alone again.

 

“I’d hate to pry Jim, but do you think you were depressed before?” It was the only thing that would rationalize the shift in personality. Dwight was starting to think that depression wasn’t new to Jim, but rather something he had been dealing with for a while.

 

“Let’s stop talking about me, what are your plans for today,” Jim deflected. Dwight sighed. “I have to go into work later today, Michael accidentally printed coupons worth ninety five percent off of the customers’ next purchase. We need to find what boxes those were placed in before they get shipped off.”

 

“What is up with him? How do you even accidentally print off ninety five percent coupons? What was he planning on using them for?”

 

“I’m not sure, I can never understand the genius of Michael’s mind. Regardless, I’ll be leaving in an hour or so. I have another car, so I’ll leave the keys with you in case you want to do something. My only stipulation is that you don’t go back home.”

 

“I wouldn’t, why would I? I’d never go back there if I could.”

 

“Just don’t. Leaving yesterday was way too easy. Unfortunately I think they’re planning something. Don’t talk to them either.” Jim nodded. He flipped through the yearbook and found another picture of himself, this time at homecoming hanging off the back of some tall guy. “Who is that,” asked Dwight.

 

“His name was Jonah Khan. He was my year but we weren’t close. This is an odd picture. I might have been drunk though, this was from homecoming. I don’t remember that night too well besides winning homecoming king.”

 

“Drunk? Jim, weren’t you sixteen? That’s against the law.”

 

“Fifteen; our homecomings were always in late September. And so? It was homecoming, everyone was drunk!”

 

“Wow, quite the rebel there, young Jimmy. I bet you were the biggest troublemaker at your school.” Jim smiled at him. “No, I was the opposite. I was pretty much you in high school, except I didn’t care about what other people did if it didn’t affect me. I was Dwight Schrute before I even knew who Dwight Schrute was.” Dwight laughed at this.

 

Dwight picked up both Jim and his plates and scrapped the excess off before dumping them in the sink. Jim followed him upstairs to his bedroom. He got back in the bed and watched Dwight flurry around looking for his work clothes.

 

“Why not wear something casual, today’s Saturday. No need for the suit and tie.”

 

“Pft. You absolutely cannot slack when it comes to work, Halpert, weekend or not.” Jim rolled his eyes. “What are your plans for today, Jim?”

 

“I’m going back to sleep for now, and then I’ll just do whatever. Not sure yet.” Dwight shrugged and put his clothes on. He tossed Jim the keys to his spare car and left. Jim settled into Dwight’s bed, and pulled out his phone. He’d try watching an ASMR video to see if that would help him sleep. When he pressed the home button he saw he had ninety one missed calls and fifty texts messages. Save for six texts all of the notifications were from his parents. _Nope_ thought Jim, he’d deal with them later.

 

He checked the other six texts. One was from Andy.

 

 **Andy:** _Hey Big Tuna! How’s your break going? I’m taking a few days off to go to NYC to visit Karen and Josh! I wanted to see if you wanted to come along. I already booked a room w/ two beds, so just let me know. 🤗🤗🤗_

 

 **Jim:** _hey! im fine! how have you been? im actually going to the city on weds-thur, when are you going? id love to hang out if were going at the same time!_

 

The next text was from Larissa.

 

 **Larissa:** _Baby bro! Pete said we were skiing, is that alright with you? Let me know, otherwise we could do something else! The Poconos are kinda scary._

 

 **Jim:** _yeah, its fine. pete already asked me. i agree, thats why you should stay on the official trails this time larissa._

 

Larissa responded immediately.

 

 **Larissa:** _WOW. You get lost once and you never hear the end of it! It’s not my fault there are so many hiking trails in the mountains._

 

Jim snorted and continued checking his phone. He had two texts from Pam, one from Karen, and one from Roy. He started with Karen.

 

 **Karen:** _I heard you’re taking time off from work! Come visit me! Or I’ll come to you! But Andy’s already coming here so so should you!_

 

 **Jim:** _ill be in the city wednesday and thursday, hopefully that overlaps with when andy will be there! can’t wait to see you!_

 

He looked at the text from Roy first.

 

 **Roy:** _Hey princess, what are you doing this weekend? Send help, I have to work later, and maybe on Sunday._

 

 **Jim:** _im hanging with dwight. thats unfortunate tho, i hope you find michaels coupons 😢😢😢_

 

Jim didn’t want to privy Roy to yesterday’s events, or his current location. He was still mad at him. He apologized, sure, and he seemed sorry. But how did Jim know Roy wouldn’t follow him again? Twelve hours ago he didn’t think his family would be following him around, but here he was. He wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore.

 

He checked the message from Pam.

 

 **Pam:** _Hey Jim! Are you free this weekend? We should hang out!_

 

 **Pam:** _Sorry we haven’t spoken much since last week, I’ve had a lot of my mind. Can we catch up?_

 

 **Jim:** _yeah! let me know when youre done coupon hunting, i can meet you wherever._

 

Jim was nervous about hanging out with Pam. While they tried mending their friendship last week Jim still wasn’t sure where they stood. They texted a bit, mostly to say hi or to briefly gossip, but they hadn’t hung out. If she wanted to hang out then that must have meant that she wasn’t upset with him anymore, about leaving or the Roy thing. He hoped that was the case, while she had every right to hate him he also didn’t want her to. She was his best friend at one point.

 

 **Pam:** _Yayyy~ Great! I should be free at 4:30, how does dinner sound?_

 

It was only 8 am now, which meant Jim had ample time to sleep before he needed to leave.

 

 **Jim:** _sounds good_

 

Jim scrolled through some of the texts his parents sent him. They started out fairly normal, asking Jim to come back and apologizing for the breach in trust. However, they started shifting blame on him, saying he shouldn’t have found the cameras to begin with and he didn’t need to be in a relationship at the moment anyway. Then came the threats.

 

 **Mom:** _James, come back. You left the house at 1:17 am. If you are not back by 1:17 am Sunday then we will report you missing, kidnapped by your “boyfriend”. If you valued his life then you’d come back soon._

 

 **Gerald:** _We’ve had your phone tracked before, and we can do it again._

 

 **Gerald:** _Come back, now! I can’t see this ending well for you if you don’t._

 

Ahh. Jim always loved when his parents threatened him.

 

As far as Jim knew he couldn’t be reported missing if people around him had heard or came in contact with him. As it stood at least four of his coworkers either heard from him or knew his whereabouts. Now, his parents could always lie and say he had no close contacts, but the police’s next move would be to either contact his place of employment, where Dwight would hopefully talk Michael out of complying with the police (Jim never thought he’d see Dwight _not_ helping the police) or his siblings. Larissa had heard from him, so again, that investigation would be a bust. It was an empty threat.

 

The worst case scenario was that his parents threw money at the police to make them find him. He didn’t have a lot of money independently of his parents, but Larissa and Pete did. He’d hate to drag them into it, but he had enough reason to believe their parents were acting maliciously against him at this point. He’d just have to convince his siblings of the same.

 

As for his phone being tracked, yeah. They might actually have his phone tracked. He always figured that was how his parents found him when he moved to Stamford. But that didn’t really make sense though. He bought a new phone when he left, and changed the number. He did his best to register it as far away from where he lived as possible, but he still made the rookie mistake of giving them his number (just to avoid being reported missing like they were trying to do now; they would have had an actual case then). But his phone wasn’t tapped, at least not by his parents. It was more than likely they tracked him via a private investigator and not his phone. Still, he’d have it looked at later. The worst thing that could happen was that he needed a new phone and number.

 

Jim screenshot the more inflammatory threats to send to Dwight and his siblings later. He promised both Dwight and himself that he wouldn’t bend to the will of his parents, and he planned on keeping it.

 

* * *

 

Roy sat in the warehouse’s office, surfing the Internet. He was the only warehouse employee there, filling in for Darryl who had to take his daughter to the doctor. Just because he had to be here today didn’t mean he was actually going to help Michael find his stupid coupons. He’d lock up once they left, and that would be the extent of his efforts. Instead he browsed Reddit. He wanted to check out the MLB subreddit. Spring training was around the corner, and Roy was excited about the start of the season. He wondered if Jim would be up for going to games with him when the season started. He knew Jim liked the Phillies, although he was more of a Pirates man himself. It wouldn’t matter, as long as he got to spend time with Jim.

 

Instead he ended up in the true crime subreddit. Roy would never admit it, but he was a huge scaredy cat. He couldn’t look at the subreddit at night, because then he couldn’t sleep. When he was still with Pam he’d sometimes brave it, but that would always end with him cuddling up to her at night, and tired for work the next day. However, it he read it early in the day then he’d have enough time to process the horrors of the world before bed. So he looked.

 

A lot of cases about missing and murdered women. It was terribly tragic and Roy found himself secretly glad he was a man. He elected to buy Pam mace; he didn’t love her romantically but that didn’t mean he’d want her snatched off of the streets either. She was the perfect target for a brutal murder: short, meek, and female. However, one particular post caught his eye. He clicked on it.

 

Apparently seventeen years ago some goon kidnapped a bunch of people in the Northeast Pennsylvania area and murdered them over the course of two years. He invaded the police for a long time, and they were perplexed about who did it. However, the assailant was finally killed by the police after he kidnapped some kid and held her hostage for over a month. The identities of half of his victims, including his lone, final survivor remained unknown. The child’s parents worked hard to keep her name out of the press, while the murdered victims were just unidentifiable. It was eerie.

 

What was even weirder was a comment posted in reply to the original post.

 

 **starbuxhottiescrpa:** _This case was interesting, but the information in the OC isn’t true. The case with the abducted girl and the murders have nothing to do with each other. It was convenient at the time that that girl was abducted because the Scranton police had no idea who was committing those murders. They framed the kidnapper, who was up to other heinous shit: they were probably a pedophile or in the mob. They killed the kidnapper and retroactively said he was the one who murdered the other eleven people so they wouldn’t seem incompetent. If anything, they just drove the real serial killer underground. I think that dude moved to Louisiana and did all of those murders in 06-07. Regardless, the two crimes weren’t related. I went to private school with a girl who was allegedly related to the girl who was snatched, this was back in 2002. She was drama queen and always wanted attention, so maybe she wasn’t related to the kid and just circulated rumors about herself. She had also claimed that someone tried snatching her but botched the attempt. In actuality if that did happen then they left her ass since she was so fucking chatty lol. I only bring this up because the girl is doing well for herself now, so she must have grown out of her attention seeking ways. But if it’s true then its pretty easy to tell who the snatched kid was._

 

_TL;DR: the two cases listed were separate events: the serial killings from 01-02 and the kidnapping in 02. Police retroactively said they were done by the same people._

 

The comment had a lot of downvotes, mostly from people who criticized the poster for going off on a tangent about their former classmate. People from the area were split on where or not the two cases were related: one group of people agreed with the commenter that the police covered up the former by framing the kidnapper from the latter case. Most of those people also thought the Louisiana killer was the same as the Pennsylvania killer. Others pointed to radio silence of the first killer during the investigation of the kidnapper and his subsequent disappearance as proof that they were one and the same. Plus, the Louisiana killer was eventually caught, tried, and executed, and while he admitted to the Louisiana crime spree he didn’t confess or even mention the Pennsylvania killings. In their book those serial killings were two different cases, and not the abduction of the little girl.

 

That was a lot to take in. Roy has personally never heard of the case(s), but he had grown up in Pittsburgh which had its own set of problems. He googled a bit to find more information, and everything he found said the same as the initial Reddit post: the murderer’s final victim was the abducted girl after killing another eleven people before hand. Roy was so enthralled by the case that he didn’t hear someone entering the office.

 

“Is there a reason why you aren’t helping, Roy,” asked Michael. He looked peeved, and it was unfortunate. This was Michael’s fault, and Roy didn’t see why he had to help bail him out. “I don’t see why I should, I’m a bit busy.”

 

Michael moved closer to the work computer to see what Roy was doing. He froze when he saw the headlines. “Why are you looking at this,” asked Michael. “This is dark, dark, dark, stuff. No need to poke around in it.” Well, that caught Roy’s attention.

 

“What about it is dark?”

 

“Everything. A child was kidnapped and beat and potentially raped for over a month. I don’t know, it’s not something I’d go snooping around in. I’m sure she grew up hating himself and doesn’t want to be reminded of it. True crime is for vultures, I don’t understand the need to dig up someone else’s trauma for your entertainment. I can’t believe people are still writing articles about it, it’s been fifteen years.” Roy was shocked at Michael’s words, because when did he ever show that amount of sympathy for complete strangers? He couldn’t even show it to people he knew.

 

“Wow Michael, that’s really deep. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

 

“That’s what she said,” chuckled Michael, head toward the door. He bumped into Phyllis, who was entering the room. “Michael, we’ve found about nine of the fifteen coupons. Why don’t we take a break for now?” Phyllis’ eyes landed on the computer screen and she paled. “Oh. Why are you looking that up, Roy?”

 

“I saw it on Reddit. It happened before I moved here, I was curious about it. Primarily how the parents wouldn’t release the identity of the little girl. Isn’t it counterproductive to the search and rescue to do that? People could have helped if they knew who they were looking for.”

 

Phyllis hummed and scratched the back of her head. Her eyes darted towards Michael and around the room. She took a deep breath before responding, “Well, at first a local paper tried publishing the girl’s name but the parents wanted to suppress the information so they reneged on it. It probably did hinder the investigation, but in the long run the little girl got to grow up without everyone knowing about her past.” Roy was confused, by Michael and Phyllis’ behavior, and by the logic used by that girl’s parents.

 

“She could have easily been killed. It would have been a moot point if that happened.”

 

“Luckily it didn’t. How’s Jim,” Phyllis asked instead, redirecting the conversation. “I’m sure you’ve seen him this week.”

 

“What makes you so sure I have?” Phyllis gave Roy a small smile before sitting down on the couch behind him. Michael plopped down on the arm of the couch.

 

“Well, you’re his boyfriend, right? Or is it Dwight?”

 

“Dwight, it should definitely be Dwight,” said Michael. “If my closest friend has to get married then I’d rather it be my best salesman than Roy. He’s already proved he can’t make it down the aisle once.” Roy fought the urge to roll his eyes at Michael. Instead he addressed Phyllis, “How long have you known? Who told you?”

 

“I’ve known as long as you three have been at it. When’s decision day? Do you think Jim will pick you or Dwight?”

 

“Me, obviously.”

 

“He shouldn’t, I’d seriously question his sanity if he picks you,” said Michael. Roy held his breath before saying, “I don’t think you’re in any position to judge anyone’s sanity, Michael.”

 

“So how is he? Is he doing okay,” asked Phyllis. Roy grunted, he wouldn’t give out Jim’s personal business.

 

“He’s fine, just stressed.”

 

Phyllis nodded. “I bet, we had to split up his workload because he was doing so much. I’d take a mental health day too if I were him.” Either Phyllis was very perceptive or Jim was very obviously struggling upstairs. Roy examined Michael, who was fiddling with his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I thought he could handle all of the work! I wouldn’t have assigned it if I knew he’d crack!”

 

“So does everyone upstairs think he’s out for mental health related issues?” Neither said anything. Phyllis pulled an envelope out of thin air, with Jim’s name scribbled in cursive along the top. He could tell it was Pam’s handwriting. “What does the card say?”

 

“Get well soon,” said Phyllis.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“We hope you feel better.”

 

“Right.” Roy opened the envelope and pulled out the card. _Sorry to hear about your brain_ read the cover of the card, which featured a sorry looking brain on it. The inside had all of the upstairs employees offering various platitudes to Jim, ranging from “If you ever need a shoulder or an ear, let me know,” (Oscar, Toby) to “OMG Jim you’re CRAZY! I’d never peg you as the type to go INSANE but I guess you never really know someone huh??? I wish I were MENTALLY ILL because then everyone would have to pay more attention to me + I’d get to go to all of those group therapies!” (Kelly). Even the production staff signed the card, on a separate sheet of paper. All of the air left Roy’s lungs.

 

“I can’t imagine a universe where Jim would want or be happy to receive this!”

 

“We figured we’d let him know we were thinking of him,” replied Phyllis, a bit shaken.

 

“I got that expressed shipped from the Internet, okay,” said Michael. “I figured that’s what his brain looked like, sad and stressed.”

 

“Okay, no. He doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s out due to a mental illness. Go and tell everyone he’s out because his father had a heart attack or something!”

 

“That would be in the news, “former football star and CEO has heart attack and is on death’s doorstep.” That’s even more obvious, Roy,” said Phyllis.

 

“Absolutely no one out there is the type to look up who Jim’s father is to confirm if he’s had a heart attack. He’s just a random person as far as they are concerned. Think about how he’d feel when he came back and everyone knew he was struggling? He’d hate himself and would probably quit! Is that what you _really_ want?”

 

“You can’t coddle him, Roy. He’s not going to get better if you continue to pretend there’s nothing wrong. He should know that he has a group of people who care about him here. He doesn’t have to go through this alone.”

 

“I’m not pretending nothing’s wrong! I know he’s sick, but that doesn’t mean everyone else has to! And there’s nothing wrong with coddling him. I can help him through this, he doesn’t need more people crowding around him, making him sicker. Michael, go tell everyone that Jim’s dad is sick and that’s why he’s out, not because he’s in the loony bin.” Michael gave Roy a defiant glare, which Roy returned with abandon. Michael eventually broke and left the office. Roy watched as Michael explained the situation to the best of his limited ability. Michael was notorious for getting information wrong, hopefully everyone would just believe Michael fucked this up too. Phyllis coughed, alerting Roy to the fact that she was still there.

 

“Let me ask you this Roy. Why are you doing this to Jim? You said it yourself, your don’t want people crowding around him. Why are you and Dwight opening vying for his love? Don’t you think that’s causing him stress?”

 

“He would have said so if it did.” That made him think though, that maybe their dating contract was another stressor for Jim. He already cut the amount of dates for them both in half, and seemed to be rushing to get them done. He went with through the actual dates half heartedly. Plus the decision itself was bound to be stressful. Even if he had a clear picture of who he liked he’d still have to put up with the one he didn’t choose because he worked with them both. And what if he didn’t like either of them, and was just going along with it out of a sense of obligation? Now Roy was worried he was causing Jim more stress.

 

“Hmm, okay,” was Phyllis’ response. “Well, I’d consider everything that causes him stress, including yourself, Roy. If coddling is your idea of helping then just make sure you don’t suffocate him. And don’t show him those articles you’ve found, his life is hard enough without you adding additional mess into it.” Michael came into the office with five boxes of applesauce in his hands. Dwight trailed after him.

 

“Anderson,” Dwight said sourly.

 

“ _Freak._ ” Michael threw a packet of mixed berry applesauce at Roy’s face before tossing Phyllis two strawberry flavored ones. “Pam and Ryan found about a hundred boxes of applesauce in Dwight's car. What were you gonna do with all that applesauce, Dwight?”

 

“It goes down easy,” was all Dwight said. Phyllis nodded before giving Dwight back the applesauces. Phyllis left the room, leaving Dwight, Roy, and Michael behind. Michael stood awkwardly to the side before excusing himself to do a talking head.

 

““It goes down easy”? What does that mean?”

 

“They’re for Jim. They’re less laborious to eat than regular food because he can literally swallow it, no chewing involved.”

 

“A hundred boxes? Why not broth?” Dwight tsked.

 

“I have plenty of broth at home, but no applesauce. Hence me buying them.” Roy didn’t have anything to say, so he threw the get well soon card at Dwight. “Did you somehow miss everyone in the office signing this? What are you good for, freak? What would have happened if someone gave him this?”

 

Dwight read some of the comments, shock etched on his face. He had told Jim no one thought of him this way, but he was wrong. But clearly, Dwight wasn’t the most perceptive person.

 

“Jim, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, I promise to be a better friend in the future, love Pam.”

 

“Thank you for refocusing our documentary! I think following your journey will show just how toxic the American workplace is. Your fave camera guy, Dave.”

 

“Sweetie, please feel better. Let me know if there’s anything you need. xxZoe.”

 

“I told ya to not drink the bottled water here, Tall Guy. It ain’t clean the way tap water is. Now they’re watching the world from your eyes, and there’s nothing we can do about it. -Creed.”

 

“No, I had no idea they were writing this. I wasn’t included in this. They still think I hate him and probably wouldn’t even wish him well.” Dwight managed to look a bit hurt, before replacing the look with his usual indifference.

 

“Phyllis and Michael plotted this, and they know about the three of us. They probably knew you’d destroy it if you saw it.”

 

“Well, they were right.” Both could imagine how upset Jim would get if he received a card talking about how everyone knew he was crazy. It wouldn’t go over well.

 

“Roy, I had an interesting discussion with Jim yesterday, something about you stalking him? What’s up with that,” Dwight asked coolly.

 

“I do it to protect him. I’d do anything to help and protect him.”

 

“From…? I don’t think he needed protecting when you were following him around while you were with Pam. If anything you’re the biggest threat to his safety.” Dwight had to fight the urge to punch Roy’s face in. He still wasn’t over the fact that Roy was tailing Jim around. However, if Jim found out that Dwight and Roy fought he’d be upset.

 

Roy gritted his teeth. “I’ve apologized for following him around in the past. However, I’ve been worried about him recently, and want to keep an eye on him. It was the only way. I’ll keep my distance from here on out though. It won’t matter in the long run anyway, I can watch over him all the time when we’re together.” Dwight laughed at him.

 

“You’re out of your mind if you think he’s picking you! He doesn’t even trust you!”

 

“He’s not picking you either. He didn’t even like you until you came on to him, and I’m sure he still doesn’t. At least we were friends beforehand.”

 

“We were friends too, contentious friends, but friends nonetheless.”

 

“He hates you, he’s made it more than known through his pranks.”

 

“He apologized.”

 

“Because you made him feel bad about it. You deserved them, you annoying fuck!”

 

Roy and Dwight glared at each other. Unlike Michael, Dwight didn’t fear Roy, and so he held his gaze. Eventually they bored of each other, and Dwight left the room, wanting to finish finding the coupons. Roy sighed and moved back to the computer. He had more important things to do than to argue with _freak._ He touched the mouse of the desktop, jolting the computer awake. All of the articles about the kidnapping case were still opened.

 

Michael was a strange, strange man, and nothing he did at this point raised any red flags for Roy. But Phyllis’ reaction to him looking at this case made him suspicious. Roy was smart, smarter than Phyllis and Michael thought he was, and probably much smarter than them in general. They weren’t slick. He went back to the Reddit post. The kidnapping took place in late 2002. Okay. The parents suppressed information about the little girl in order to protect her, but ended up slowing down the search. The girl had an older sister who was “doing well” now. It sounded familiar.

 

Roy reread the post and the comment that offered a rebuttal to the post. One reply to the comment caught his eye.

 

 **ihateyoutube** : _Don’t talk about stuff you know nothing about. You’re stepping out of line speculating about that girl and her family. Leave it be._

 

It was wholesome, getting bothered about a true crime post on the true crime subreddit.

 

Roy clicked on the profile of the user who left the initial reply, starbuxhottiescrpa, and checked his posting history. He posted a few times in the skin care and makeup subreddits, giving Roy a good look at his face. He saved the posts to his bookmarks. He also posted in r/talesfromretail. Roy knew from his username that he worked at a Starbucks in Scranton, that was certain, but the man gave enough clues that he was able to figure out which Starbucks he worked at. There were only seven in the area anyway, so it was easy to figure out which one it was. After figuring that out Roy reread his posts, trying to figure out his shifts. He gleaned that he worked Tuesdays and Wednesdays, from 9am to 4pm. Roy wanted to know more about what this egghead knew about the case, namely about the girl he went to school with. So he plotted to visit “starbuxhottiescrpa” on Tuesday to get a few more answers.

 

Roy sat back in his chair and watched the upstairs employees try to find Michael’s latest mistake. He fiddled with the card in his hands, one Jim would never see. He guessed what he was about to do constituted as stalking, but he was curious. This seemed like it had something to do with Jim’s shady ass family, or he himself, and Roy needed to know what happened to properly help Jim. Besides, he wasn’t stalking Jim this time, he was just attending an unplanned Reddit meetup. It was fine.

 

He meant it when he said he’d do whatever to help Jim.

 

* * *

 

Jim drove to the restaurant where he was meeting Pam. He had just finished getting his phone checked out. It didn’t show any signs of being tapped, so it was safe to use. However, Jim still felt a bit paranoid about it and he planned to switch to a different phone soon. He had also gotten his laptop checked out for spyware, and that too came back clean. He was still worried about it, but didn’t have the money to get both a new phone and laptop.

 

He pulled up outside the restaurant and grabbed a table inside. It was nearly empty, so he was able to get one near a window where he’d flag Pam down. He fiddled with his phone, avoiding the increasing number of texts from his parents. More threats he assumed, with the occasional “I’m sorry” and “we love you” thrown in. He vowed not to stress himself out by dwelling on them, so instead he played a game while he waited. After ten minutes of waiting he heard tapping at the window next to him; there stood Pam smiling at him. She hurry inside and pulled him in for a brief hug before sitting across from him.

 

“Jim, hi! How are you? Your face is looking much better!”

 

“I’m great, and thank you! I might bruise easily, but I heal easily too. How have you been Beesly?”

 

“I’m good! I had to spend my Saturday looking for these coupons Michael printed off! It was like, “get free paper during your next order”, or something close to it.” Jim smiled, having heard the story twice already.

 

“Did you guys find them all?”

 

“We found fourteen out of fifteen coupons he made. So either he really only made fourteen copies or the last one has already been shipped off and some business just had its lucky day.” Jim outright laughed. Pam smiled at him and said, “That’s not funny, Jim! We might be out of jobs soon!”

 

“Oh please. Michael is teflon, and is sleeping with Jan. This will blow over by next week.” Pam laughed this time.

 

“But seriously, how have you been Halpert?” There’s was a look of sadness in Pam’s eyes that Jim couldn't place, but hoped wasn’t redirected at him. “I’m fine, really. Just enjoying my break. Is that all that’s happened in the office? I’ve been gone for five days, that’s like a month for other places.”

 

“Hmm. Andy is taking a few days off next week, so sales will be swamped now that you and Andy are both gone. I guess this is Ryan’s chance to prove his worth.”

 

“Yeah, he told me. He’s going to New York and I’m meeting up with him there.” Pam shifted in her seat. Jim could tell she has something on her mind, but had no clue what it was.

 

“How’s your dad doing,” she asked. Jim had to control his face, which was a hard task for him. _What is she talking about?_

 

“Uh, he’s been better?”

 

“Michael said you were out because your dad had a heart attack,” Pam explained. A waitress chose that moment to come over and take their orders. Jim picked the cheapest thing he wouldn’t eat, and watched Pam. Okay, Michael said his dad had a heart attack, which while being an unnecessary cover was a nice one. But why even say that, it was no one’s business but his own that he was out. He’d run with it, because it would save him from any additional questions Pam might ask. He waited until the waitress left before putting on his best ‘sadness’ face.

 

“Yeahhh. It was a small one. He’s doing better, but I’m still needed at home. It’s been really tough on my mom,” he lied.

 

“It’s crazy how that happened after Angela went off on you. What an awful Monday that must have been.” Jim nodded.

 

“Life never quits.”

 

“It’s funny, because Michael swore up and down that you were going to an asylum. He was hoping he could send Jan with you since she’s losing it. He’s always coming up with the craziest things. I’m glad you’re not committed though.” Jim stuttered out a laugh. Why would Michael say that? He didn’t want to ask in case he came off as being bothered by it, but he was extremely bothered by it. Pam continued and said, “He apologized though, and said it wasn’t true! He had gotten his information wrong. We had all gotten you this card from Etsy that said “sorry about your brain” but Roy confiscated it. It was for the best though, some people wrote some weird things in it. At least Angela wasn’t there to sign it, I can’t imagine what she’d say. How are things going with _Roy_ going by the way?”

 

Jim sat silent for a long time. Michael tended to jump to conclusions and got things wrong all the time. That was the way he was. But everyone signed it, right? Someone could have easily rebutted Michael when he brought the card in, but no one did. What did they think of him? Dwight said no one thought he was off, but maybe he just meant last year; maybe _now_ they did. Maybe Brian had secretly told everyone about the time he attacked him, or maybe Phyllis told everyone about his panic attack. Maybe Andy told everyone he thought Jim needed counseling, or maybe Angela spitefully told people his diagnosis after promising she wouldn’t. Maybe Dwight _was_ fucking with him, and had been telling everyone that Jim was nuts. And everyone had just smiled in his face the whole time, waiting for crazy Jim to quit and finally rid Dunder Mifflin of his toxicity. He felt ill and jumped up from the table. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pam and headed towards the nearest restroom.

 

He walked into one of the shared bathrooms and threw up. He gagged for a while before the chunks of eggs he ate for breakfast came out. After that Jim dry heaved, having nothing else to cough up. Once calmed down he cleaned up any spray that didn’t make it into the toilet before flushing it. He washed his hands and rinsed his mouth out. He avoided looking into the mirror, he probably looked like shit. He felt like shit and was shit. God. He stepped out of the single bathroom and found Pam waiting right outside the door, concern evident in her blue eyes.

 

“Uhh,” was all his brain supplied.

 

“Jim, what’s wrong? Please talk to me.” She grabbed his hand and led him back to the table where they grabbed all of their stuff and left. Pam followed Jim to his car. “What happened to your truck Jim? Isn’t this Dwight’s car?”

 

“It’s a long story, I don’t want to bore you with the details. I feel sick so I think we should cancel lunch. I’m sorry!” Pam blocked the drivers side door so Jim couldn’t get in. He thought about shoving her away but then felt bad about it. Instead he said, “Pam, please move. I’m not really in the mood.”

 

“I want to hear the story Jim. I want to know what’s up with you. Michael wasn’t lying, was he? I know we haven’t been close recently but I’m still your friend and I want to know how you’re doing. Please talk to me!” Jim sighed. He debated the pros and cons of talking to Pam. Pros: he’d get his friend back and he wouldn’t be so heavily reliant on Roy and Dwight, she’d have a different perspective on things since she wasn’t trying to date him, it’d be nice to talk things out with someone, and maybe she’d have good advice. Cons: she’d know he was crazy, he’d have to tell her about Dwight, he’d privy her to his crazy family, and he’d be burdening her. Jim’s need to be liked won out and he replied, “Okay, fine. Follow me in your car then.” He watched her climb into her car before pulling off and driving to Schrute Farm.

 

* * *

 

Jim opened the door to Dwight’s house with the spare key on the key ring he gave him. He ushered Pam into the living room where she sat on the couch. “Do you want tea or something? I think there’s some around here?” Pam shook her head.

 

“Okay then. Where to start,” Jim asked more to himself.

 

“How about why you’re at Dwight’s house? You have a house key and a car key and everything.” Jim sat down on the couch beside Pam and drew his knees up into his chest.

 

“Okay. Well, you know how I’m testing the waters with Roy?” Pam nodded.

 

“I’m doing the same with Dwight too.” Pam did her very best to keep her face neutral, but she couldn’t. “D-Dwight?”

 

“Yeah. Uhh, and I’m staying here for the weekend.” Pam was shocked, mostly at Jim’s poor taste. _Roy? Dwight?_ If those were the last two men on the face of the Earth Pam would elect to just die. She couldn’t imagine being with either, but then that was hindsight talking; she was with Roy for twelve years prior. But still, the choice between the office douche and the ex douche was too much.

 

“Do you like them?” Jim nodded.

 

“Who do you like more? What are you planning to do? Continue to date both or pick one?”

 

“I’ll pick one and we’ll go from there,” Jim replied, ignoring the first part of Pam’s question. She sighed. “Okay, why are you here and not at home? Did you’re truck break down? What was even up with that car, it costs like three times your salary! Was it a rental? Why are you on leave? I have so many questions!”

 

“Are you sure you want to know,” Jim asked gravely.

 

“Yes! I want to help! Is your life in danger or something? You’ve been acting strange for a while now. Is someone trying to kill you?”

 

“Maybe.” Pam blanched. Jim continued.

 

“Okay, the truck was a gift from my parents after I messed up the rear of my other car. But I found out they’ve been tracking me via that car for a week now. I don’t feel comfortable at home with them so I’m staying here for a while.”

 

““At home with them”? Since when do you live with them? I thought you lived by yourself?”

 

“I did, but they forced me back home after I got that concussion. It’s been a tumultuous week. But yeah, I found out they’ve been monitoring me via my car, hidden cameras in my room, the production crew, the works. I took my phone in earlier to see if it were tapped. Luckily it’s not but I’m buying a new one anyway.”

 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Jim! This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t call your parents….”

 

“It would have, I’m still on their insurance so they would have found out regardless.”

 

“Why are they doing that?” Jim shrugged. That’s what he wanted to know.

 

“I think they secretly hate me. But why put up with me if they did? I could have been out of their hair after high school, but they keep dragging me back. It doesn’t make sense, but I’ll figure it out eventually.”

 

The two sat in silence while Pam mentally prepared her next set of questions. Pam wasn’t really sure what to believe. She trusted Jim’s judgement and didn’t think he’d deliberately lie to her. However, she had to admit everything sounded far fetched to the point that she wasn’t sure if he were pranking her or not. It seemed so out of the realm of possibility that someone’s own parents would stalk them. He even said the production crew was following him. He sounded paranoid. She thought about how Dwight probably contributed to the paranoia with his own conspiracies, or even worst, was messing with Jim on purpose. She wasn’t sure what she hoped for, Jim being extremely paranoid and his parents not stalking him, or his parents stalking him and him not being paranoid. Both seemed so awful.

 

“Is this why you’ve taken off of work? Because of your parents? Or something else?”

 

“Hmmm. Not quite. I haven’t been feeling well lately and after the mess of last week and Angela screaming at me on Monday I figured I needed a break for my sanity.”

 

“How’s that going,” she asked.

 

“I went to a psychologist, and she said I had depression, along with BPD.” Pam didn’t say anything, and just leaned over to hug Jim. He returned it.

 

“Enough about me! How have you been Beesly?” Pam saw through Jim’s attempt to divert attention away from himself. However, she decided to play along. It probably wasn’t easy sharing everything he shared.

 

“I’ll tell you, but first let’s order some food. Do you think we can get pizza delivered to Schrute Farm?” Jim smiled.

 

“I’m not sure, but now’s the perfect time to find out.”

 

* * *

 

When Dwight came home, Roy trailing behind him, he was shocked to find Jim and Pam in the living room watching tv and eating. He double checked outside and saw Pam’s car outside by the one he allowed Jim to borrow. Jim turned to him and gave him a hesitant smile. “Hey Dwight, I hope you don’t mind that I invited Pam over…”

 

“It’s fine. Anderson’s here though.” Dwight moved out of the way to reveal Roy.

 

“Hey princess,” he greeted. Jim gave him a small wave in return. Pam rolled her eyes. She was hoping Dwight wouldn’t come back for a while so she wouldn’t have to deal with him. Now both Dwight and Roy were here. However, she also didn’t feel like leaving, since she had already gotten so comfortable.

 

“We have extra pizza if you guys want any. I thought Mose would be here, but I haven’t seen him,” said Jim.

 

“He’s probably in the barn. I’ll get him later. There was something Anderson and I needed to discuss with you.”

 

“Okay, shoot.” Both Roy and Dwight looked warily at Pam.

 

“Maybe when Pam leaves,” Roy stated.

 

“She knows pretty much everything. You can just say it.” Roy sat besides Jim while Dwight took a seat next to Pam. Dwight procured a piece of paper from his pocket.

He handed it to Jim, who took it and read it. It was the dating contract he, Roy, and Dwight signed almost two weeks ago. The initial ten dates clause was crossed out and replaced with five dates. Jim surmised that they had objections to the way the dates were panning out, but if he were to be honest Jim didn’t care. He had a lot on his plate without factoring in who his boyfriend would be.

 

“You both have one left. Did you want to edit it?” Roy gently pulled the paper from Jim’s hands and ripped it up. “Let’s just forget it ever happened. It just added another level of toxicity into your life that you don’t really need right now. You don’t owe either of us any more dates, nor do you need to “pick” one of us. You should focus on yourself and getting better. I’m sorry babe.”

 

“Are you okay with this,” asked Jim. Roy nodded.

 

“Remember what I told you? I’m willing to wait however long I need to wait for you. We’re young and have all the time in the world. I’d rather see you doing better right now than continue to force you to live with all of this stress. We’ll be together soon enough.” Pam scoffed but kept her mouth shut. Roy could be such a smooth talker when he wanted to be. She hoped Jim wasn’t falling for it. One look into his soft eyes told her that he was falling for it. She sighed. She secretly wondered how this whole thing would play out. She wanted Jim to choose neither, to focus on himself and then get better and realize he didn’t have to settle for either bums. But he said he liked them, for reasons unknown, and he wasn’t incompetent or impaired. He knew what he was doing. So she’d wait and see.

 

“Are you okay with this Dwight,” Pam asked Dwight in lieu of Jim. Dwight nodded. Dwight got up and brought a dozen or so bags into the kitchen, no doubt all of the applesauce she found earlier. Dwight was strange. He came back a few minutes later with a couple of packs of applesauce and a single plate.

 

“I don’t get one,” asked Roy, affronted.

 

“No. You said what needed to be said, now get out of my house.” Dwight handed the applesauces to Jim. He looked at the top box of pizza. “Only three slices are gone, and I assume Pam ate them all?” Jim nodded and uncapped the applesauce before drinking it. Dwight gave Jim a hard stare, forcing him to uncap another applesauce and then drink it. And then a third, and a fourth. Pam watched curiously.

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it,” asked Dwight.

 

“Have you ever eaten four applesauce in one sitting? Yeah, it was pretty bad.” Dwight reached over and ruffled Jim’s hair.

 

The four sat, watched tv and made small talk while eating. Once satiable full Dwight excused himself. “Pam, I’d like to show you my cellar. Care to join me?” Pam looked at him with frightened look. “Are you going to murder me there and use me as feed for your animals?”

 

“Please, your small body wouldn’t tide my livestock over for a day. It wouldn’t be worth the hassle.”

 

“Dwight,” warned Jim, not taking his eyes off of the tv. Pam sighed and joined Dwight. She followed him down the winding halls of his large house until they came to a door. She followed him down stair and into a large wine cellar. Most of the shelves were lined with different wines and liquors. Pam was impressed, she figured there’d be a torture chamber down here. That or a moldy basement.

 

“What did Jim tell you,” Dwight asked, getting right to the point.

 

“How’s he’s been having a hard time since he’s come back. That he has depression and BPD. About the three of you. About his parents.”

 

“Any mention of the production crew?”

 

“Yeah...that too.”

 

“What do you think,” asked Dwight. He rested against the wall behind him, fully intent on picking Pam’s brain.

 

“I think he’s just paranoid. It’s probably symptoms of the BPD. I don’t think he’s lying per se but I think he’s reading too much into certain situations. I’m just worried about him. He said his parents were tracking him, that’s ridiculous! I don’t want to say this but...I think he may need to do in patient treatment, that might be more helpful for him at this point than weekly therapy. But you’ve been with him more these past couple of weeks than I have. What’s your assessment?”

 

“He is paranoid, extremely so. And I kind of agree that he may need to be committed, but that’s a choice he needs to make. But he’s right about his parents following him, I was with him yesterday night. His father was upset with my being there and tried attacking me. After digging around we found cameras in his room, all over the place. The Benz he had, it was also bugged so they could know where he went during the day. It had two way radios in it so they could listen in and talk to him. It was even fixed to shut off so he’d be stranded wherever they wanted him to be. He’s not paranoid about _that._ He’s right.”

 

Pam felt ill. So Jim was telling the truth! And she initially discounted him. She felt like the world’s worst friend. “Don’t beat up on yourself,” said Dwight. “It’s hard to believe. According to Jim they’ve always been like this.”

 

“I...why is he paranoid then? By your own admission? He’s justifiably correct about his parents.”

 

“Well, he thinks the production staff are stalking him too, either with his parents or as another force against him. Then he’s paranoid about whether people like him or not. He just is. His parents weren’t even on his radar as anything more than a nuisance until yesterday. That’s why he’s paranoid: he thinks the wrong people are out to get him.”

 

This was a lot. Pam felt bad that Jim had to deal with this on his own, with only Dwight and Roy to help him. They both probably put him ten steps back instead of a step forward. She vowed to be there for him more.

 

“What do you plan on doing, Dwight? Are you going to ridicule him about this? He must trust you somewhat if he’s told you all of this. I seriously hope this isn’t some ploy for revenge after the years of pranks.”

 

“No, I want to help him, but I’m at a loss for how. I can’t force him to do in patient treatment, or to go to his psychologist, or to take his medicine. That has to be on him. The only thing I can do is offer my encouragements. But if I do that too much then he’ll get upset and shun me. I want him to like me after all, I like him. So I think the best course of action is for him to have a support system of different people he can trust.”

 

“That’s where I come in?” Dwight nodded.

 

“He’s only been hanging out with me and Roy. He needs friends who aren’t us, but he’s cut most of them off. So he has you and maybe Andy.”

 

“I’ll do my best to support him.

 

“Thank you.” Dwight led Pam back up the stairs. She grabbed him by the back of his brown jacket before he could reach the top step. “Dwight, did you buy all of that applesauce for Jim?”

 

“I did, he hasn’t been eating well recently. Experience has taught me that soft foods and liquids are optimal when someone can’t hold food down.”

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have taken so many earlier if I had known that. I can reimburse you or buy some more.”

 

“It’s fine Pam. I can always get more myself. Maybe when the summer comes I can make it from scratch with the apples from the yard….” Pam found that kind of sweet, that Dwight bought a hundred boxes of applesauce just so Jim could eat. She guessed he could be nice occasionally, he also had his moments with Angela too.

 

When they got back to the main area Jim was looking through Dwight’s pantry while Roy paced throughout the living room. “Anderson, you’re still here? Would you like a show with that free dinner,” bit out Dwight. Roy ignored him.

 

“Dwight, how much did all this applesauce cost? I won’t be here for that long. Besides, I think applesauce has a shelf life, there’s no way I can finish all of this before it goes bad.”

 

“If you eat ten packets a day then it’d take you forty days to finish it. However, about ten boxes are missing so you can say it’ll take thirty six days.”

 

“I...don’t think I’ll be here for thirty six days, Dwight.”

 

“You’re more than welcome to stay. Forever, preferably.”

 

Roy was working on wearing holes into Dwight’s floorboards. “Roy, what is wrong with you,” asked Pam.

 

“Jim, show them what you showed me!” Jim walked out of the kitchen and showed  Pam and Dwight his cell phone. He unlocked it and went to his pictures, where the last ones were screenshots of text messages his parents sent him. “They’ve been threatening me all day. They said they’ll report me missing, and I’m not even sure what my dad has planned for me. Probably chaining me to a wall in the basement. They can’t report me missing since I’m not, but I can’t stay here forever, that’ll just be me pulling you in danger.”

 

“In danger of what? What are your parents capable of,” asked Pam.

 

“I secretly suspect his family is the mafia. Are you Italian or Russian Jim,” asked Dwight.

 

“No. I’m sure they’re into the good old fashion intimidation. Hopefully they won’t get violent with people who aren’t me.” Pam looked at Jim worriedly. Was his parents the ones behind the bruises that littered his face the past two weeks? What the hell was going on?

 

“I need to go home eventually, I just don’t want to be bothered right now. But the threats need to stop, before they spread to you guys. I’ll probably leave on Monday Dwight, and I’ll take some of the applesauce with me.”

 

“How would they find us,” asked Pam.

 

“I don’t know, however rich people get things done. They found me in Stamford last year with a number that wasn’t even a

Connecticut number. If they want it bad enough they can do it.” Jim’s life seemed more and more like a fucked up horror story the more Pam heard about it. How had she never known any of this? She was his best friend! Pam gave him another hug that he returned.

 

“I think you should go now Pam, it’s getting dark. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Pam nodded and went to grab her purse. “Anderson, get the hell out,” said Dwight. The three of the exited the house, Dwight walking Pam to her car. Jim collected the dirty dishes and empty pizza boxes and disposed of them in the kitchen. He put the leftover pizza away in case Mose ever came in from the barn.

 

Jim had to think of a way to get to the bottom of his parents’ shady behavior. He hoped visiting Dr. Hanson would shed light on it, but there had to be something more to this. Maybe his siblings would know, and in that case he could wait until next weekend to find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried highlighting Roy and Dwight's different methods of dealing with Jim's issues. Not sure if it went well lol. I also want to say Dwight is the real MVP for buying $200+ of applesauce just so Jim could eat lmao. And the card I mentioned is in fact a real card on Etsy. It just seemed like the type of thing Michael would buy (if he didn't make a card himself).


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy plays spy and Jim has a wonderful trip to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't beta read. Let me know if yous see any mistakes.

Come Tuesday Roy was ready for his mission. He took a day off of work for it,not wanting to have to rush himself on his lunch break while trying to acquire information. He waited until 10am when the Starbucks was less crowded to go in. He took stock of the store. There was one tall man hunched over his computer at a table, and a mom with her infant at another. Besides the influx of drive thru orders the Starbucks was pretty dead. Roy looked around for the man he was trying to find. He saw him sticking a frozen sandwich into an oven, a headset on his face. He was working the drive thru, great.

 

Roy approached the man and said, “Hey, can we talk?” He looked at Roy quizzically before pointing at another employee who could help him. Roy shook his head. “Can I talk to you?” He checked the guy’s Reddit post history once more before he has left the house, and from what he saw the guy was very single and very gay. Hopefully he could exploit his loneliness, if only for a few minutes.

 

He pulled his headset off. “What can I do for you, sir?” Roy stuck his hand out so the man would take it.

 

“I’m Roy, and you are?” He flashed his best smile at the man, and hoped he’d find him handsome. The way the man’s eyes lit up confirmed that he did. Jackpot.

 

“I’m Michael,” he said, eyes twinkling.  _ Pfttttt _ thought Roy. This would be easy.

 

“Where are you from Michael? I haven’t seen you around before.” Michael blushed at Roy’s come on. This would be too easy.

 

“I grew up in Scranton!” 

 

“Ah, cool. I grew up in Pittsburgh, but moved here during high school. I went to Fitzgerald down by the quarry. What about you?” Michael let out a little huff.

 

“I went to Our Sovereign Lady of Christ in Clarks Green.”

 

“Never heard of it, what is it?”

 

“It's an expensive private school people send their kids to if they don’t wanna send them all the way to Philly or New York. Just a bunch of rich dickheads. I went on a scholarship, and they never let me forget my place.” Roy felt a bit of sadness for Michael, but overall he didn’t care. He wasn’t here to hear his sob story. 

 

“That’s awful man. I’m sorry you went through that.”

 

“Yeah, well it was years ago. Did...you want to place an order or….?” Roy ordered a coffee, and thought of ways to keep the conversation going. He didn’t want to overshoot his shot and alert Michael to the fact that he was mining him for information, but also didn’t want to entertain the man for too long either.

 

“It’s unfair though, that they got away with treating you like that. I hate the wealthy. They step all over us working class folks and then migrate into jobs nepotism affords them. I bet those jackasses are all either investment bankers in New York or tech bros in Silicon Valley. Fucking capitalism man.” Michael nodded empathetically.

 

“God, yes! One bitch I went to school with is a billionaire now! She married some tech CEO and his company took off. Now she pretends to give a damn about bullied and impoverished children for her little foundation, but it’s all a scam. People like her think they can throw money at an issue and it’ll just go away.” Roy raised an eyebrow.

 

“Whoa, who is that?” Roy watched as Michael geared up for another rant. A pink haired barista behind him rolled her eyes, apparently this was a story he liked to tell.

 

“Larissa Halpert-Chang. She grew up here and then moved out west. She was such a dick. I went to school with her and her brother. A bunch of attention seeking jackasses. Tom Halpert was her brother. Ugh. I think he’s a lawyer now, in Philly or New York or something. Nepotism got them far.” 

 

“Wow, she seemed so cool in that profile she did with the New York Times...,” said Roy, stirring the pot. Michael shook his head.

 

“No. She’s a bitch. She was bully in high school, and a liar too. She really cleaned her act up.” Roy was so close to where he needed to be, so close.

 

“I bet. I knew a girl like that in high school. She once said a man attacked her, but it turned out she was lying for attention.” Michael rolled his eyes and handed Roy his stale coffee.

 

“Larissa did that too. Said a man tried to kidnap her. She missed school because of it but nothing ever came of her claim. People also thought she was related to that girl who got abducted all those years ago but I’m sure she started that rumor herself.” Roy made a confused face. He was so close now.

 

“What girl?” Michael looked shocked.

 

“You don’t know? It was a big story years ago. A girl from around here was kidnapped and held hostage for a month. Apparently it was Larissa’s younger sister, at least that’s what most people thought. But since she’s gotten famous there’s been no mention of this sister, so either she lied about it or her sister is dead and she’s trying to hide it.”  _ How morbid  _ thought Roy. Jim had never mentioned having another sister. However, it seemed plausible at this point that he did and he didn’t remember her. Was she actually dead?

 

“That’s creepy. What was the girl’s name?” 

 

“Jamie or something like that. The Halperts are a bunch of douches though, I bet the girl died and they just erased her from existence.” It was far fetched, but Roy could honestly believe it. Roy moved to wrap up the conversation when a long shadow appeared over his shoulder.

 

“Excuse me? Can I get a refill,” asked the deep voiced shadow. Roy turned around and came face to face—or rather face to chest—with a tall man. 

 

“Uhh,” Roy said. He didn’t like this man in his personal space. A tall Indian man peered down at Roy with a deep frown etched on his face. 

 

“Su-sure,” stuttered Michael, who rushed to refill the man’s travel mug. He handled the man back his mug, but he didn’t leave. 

 

“What are you talking about,” asked the man instead, leaning against the counter. Was he Michael’s boyfriend, and had Roy miscalculated? It didn’t really matter since Michael confirmed what Roy wanted to hear already. He moved to step away but the man blocked him.

 

“That abduction case with the Halperts from fifteen years ago. I’m not sure if you’re from here either, but it was a big deal,” said Michael. The pink haired barista groaned.

 

“Don’t listen to him! He’s bitter that he came on to one of the Halperts and they rejected him! Nobody knows for certain if they were even involved in that case, god,” she said.

 

“Who else in this shit hole would be rich enough to pay to keep their kid’s name out of the papers?”

 

“Dumbass, there are laws that protect victims names from getting out,” she said exasperatedly, like this was a frequent conversation between the two.

 

“A local paper went under because the Halperts bought them to keep their secret from getting out,” Michael exclaimed. The pink haired girl sighed and pushed Michael into the back room and away from Roy. He smiled, getting rid of him was easier than Roy had hoped. Now he just needed to sneak out before Michael came back. “I’m sorry about that,” said the pink haired girl. “He’s obsessed with that case. Nobody knows who or what family was involved with it, he likes to think Halperts murdered one of their kids for more money or immortality or something. He’s obsessed with them.”

 

“They sound like local celebrities,” Roy said.

 

“Not really, I wouldn’t have heard of them if not for Michael. Larissa Chang is famous and apparently the dad was a football player in the eighties and nineties but who cares?  _ He’s  _ more famous,” she said, tilting her head towards the tall guy still standing beside Roy. He looked bashful and shuffled his feet. 

 

“Tell your coworker to stop spreading rumors about people just cuz he’s bitter,” he mumbled. The girl nodded and went back to work. Roy moved to leave the store but was stopped by the tall guy. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

 

“I have to get back to work,” Roy lied.

 

“It’ll only take a few minutes.” He moved back to his table and Roy realized he was the man hunched over his computer from earlier. Roy followed him and sat across from him.

 

“What can I help you with,” Roy asked.

 

“Why are you inquiring about the Halpert family?” Roy raised his eyebrow.

 

“I’m not. That man just started talking about them. All I wanted was my coffee.” The tall guy looked unimpressed.

 

“You baited him. I heard you flirting with him all the way over here. Why are you looking into the Halperts?”

 

“I’m not. I was just being flirty, it’s that a crime?” The tall guy stared at him. It was unnerving Roy. “Who are you? And who are the Halperts? They sound like a big deal.”

 

“Don’t fuck with them,” was all the tall guy said. 

 

“Why? Why does everyone make them out to be the big bad wolf? What’s up with them?”

 

“They’re bad people, at least Betsy and Gerald are. I can’t speak for any of their children….”

 

“What makes them bad? You’re both saying that but aren’t mentioning why.”

 

“I’ve had a personal run in with the Halperts when I was younger. All I will say is that they are very litigious. I can’t speak more on that. I answered your question, now answer mine, man. Why are you digging around about them?” 

 

“I know one of their sons. When that barista guy mentioned them I got a bit curious since my friend is such a good person, he doesn’t sound anything like his parents.” The tall guy’s face fell.

 

“Really? Who? Tom or Pete?” Roy was a bit shocked, why did this rando know the Halperts by name? Shouldn’t the sons at least be under the veil of anonymity? It’s not like any of them were billionaires or athletes or whatever the hell Betsy was.

 

“Uhhh, Jim?” The tall guy’s face fell even further, deep frown lines etched into his face. He looked emotional for some reason, like he had been close to Jim some time in the past.  _ Oh boy _ thought Roy. He was now convinced this kid had really good stories about the Halperts. “Do you know him,” Roy asked. 

 

“Not really. We went to highschool together is all.” Roy could tell he was lying, but didn’t press him any further. His actions spoke louder than words: he knew Jim and the Halperts did something to ruin that, possibly involving a lawsuit. Everything he learned today confirmed that Jim’s parents were freaks. The thing he didn’t know was how Jim fitted into all of this.

 

Roy got up to leave, he didn’t want to deal with Michael when he got off of dish duty. “By the way, who are you? The barista said you were famous. Are you a basketball player or something? I don’t recognize you.” The tall guy let out a shaky laugh.

 

“No, I’m Jonah Khan. I’m just a YouTuber. I’m hardly famous. ” They shook hands. When Roy got to the door Jonah stopped him again.

 

“Hey man, don’t go repeating any of that shit that loon said about the Halperts being involved in that kidnapping case. He’s lying about that, and probably lying about the Halperts bullying him. I wouldn’t mention it to Jim either,” he said worriedly. Roy nodded at him. Truth be told Jonah’s caginess about the Halperts added more veracity to the fact that they had something to do with that case. Roy got into his car and left the Starbucks.

 

Once at home Roy turned on his computer and began recording what he learned. The irrefutable facts were: a) there was some kidnapping case that took place fifteen years ago. Due to the oddness of Michael Scott, Phyllis, Michael the barista, and Jonah Khan Roy could say with much certainty that the Halperts had something to do with it. A brief internet search confirmed that b) a small, local newspaper did indeed fold around the time of the case. Roy couldn’t say for certain that this was Betsy and Gerald’s fault, but if what barista Michael said was true then maybe they bought it to keep the paper from revealing details about the case? If this were true then Roy also knew that c) the Halperts liked throwing their money and weight at people to intimidate them. They were currently doing it to their own son so he couldn’t imagine what they said to the newspaper owners or to Jonah all those years ago. 

 

What was still up in the air was the level of the Halperts involvement in the kidnapping case. Barista Michael swore up and down that the Halperts had a fifth child, a girl who would have been less than ten fifteen years ago. So Jim potentially had a twin or younger sister! But he never mentioned her, and in all of Roy’s years of “learning about” Jim did he ever come across there being a younger sister. But all of the news reporters said the kidnapped child was a girl, as did Michael and Phyllis. That was the only piece of information that made Roy potentially doubt whether the Halperts were even involved in the case. But then, there having been another Halpert child made a bit of sense. If she were kidnapped then it explained Jim’s memory loss and the creepy paintings Roy was sure he did. Maybe that was a traumatic time for Jim, and he had blocked it out of his memories. It was possible. His (twin?) sister was abducted and it was hard on him. Internalizing that eventually caused him mental anguish down the line. Everything was lining up. 

 

Except.

 

Where was this sister? Michael said her name was Jamie? That made sense, naming twins James and Jamie. But Roy had no proof she existed, and Jim never spoke about her. Was she real? Maybe she had died during her abduction, or maybe the Halperts had her committed afterwards. Roy had no answers for this.

 

Instead he turned his attention to YouTube. He typed in ‘Jonah Khan’ into the search box and watched as a bunch of videos popped up. He was pretty popular. He had seven million subscribers, which Roy assumed was a lot. His content seemed to be game streaming along with pranks, reaction videos, and vlogs. His videos averaged about seven million views, with his most popular video having thirty million.  _ My 1st Love  _ was its title. Roy clicked on it out of boredom.

 

Jonah talked about some guy he went to highschool with and how he had a crush on him for years. He was smart, kind, and popular although a bit of a stick in the mud and neurotic. Jonah was a prankster who used to target the boy hoping he’d return his affections. Eventually he did and they fell in love. Everything went well for six months until the boy’s parents decided they wanted them to break up. He had no choice but to, for reasons not given. He hadn’t heard from the boy since and jokingly stated his parents probably killed him for dating another man. In general Jonah came off as being shaken from the entire experience, and claimed that he hadn’t seriously dated since then. That was nine years ago.

 

Roy sighed and opened up his notes again. 

 

* * *

 

After a lot of convincing Jim decided to stay with Dwight until he could find an apartment of his own. By Tuesday he had settled into a routine with Dwight. He’d wake up and make the older man and his cousin breakfast and lunch. He’d see Dwight off before setting off and cleaning the most obscure room in the farmhouse he could find. He’d then hunt for apartments and a new car lease, before starting on dinner. There wasn’t much to his life at this point, but it was better than living with his parents in the giant cage they called their home. 

 

Jim had come clean to Dwight about the freaky paintings, his family’s reaction to them, and the gaps in his memory, feeling it was only fair to catch him up with what Roy knew. Dwight had been very concerned. “Do you think you could have painted them,” Dwight asked while Jim packed for his trip to New York. “It seems likely given your siblings reactions. No one has given you a straight answer about what happened.”

 

“I...don’t know. Larissa said she did it, why lie?”

 

“It doesn’t seem like you remember. Maybe they’re hiding something from you, like a demonic possession. Maybe you were possessed by a demon and can’t remember. Were you?”

 

“I don’t think so, I don’t even think demons are real Dwight,” said Jim. Dwight tsked. 

 

“Of course demons are real you dork. Don’t rule that out as an option.” Jim rolled his eyes. Dwight continued, “Still, I’d mention it to your therapist tomorrow.”

 

“The lying and stalking, yeah. I think it’s perfectly normal to not remember stuff from fifteen years ago. I can’t be expected to remember everything. I probably do, and just can’t place certain memories into specific years.” 

 

“Nonsense, I remember every detail of my life down to the day I was born. It was warm and dark, and then there was a sudden burst of light—.” Jim put his hand up to stop Dwight from continuing. 

 

“I’ll bring it up to her. She’ll probably just say I’m paranoid and try to have me institutionalized.”

 

“She’s there to help you, so you shouldn’t lie. Besides, would it be so bad if you went?”

 

“Went where,” asked Jim. “To an institution?” Dwight looked away.

 

“Do you think I’m bad enough that I need to be locked away in a mental facility,” Jim asked. He wasn’t upset or angry, just hurt. “I don’t think I’m that bad, but you would know better.”

 

“I think it could potentially be helpful for you. You’d get in depth help over the course of a week or two instead of one hour weekly. They could monitor your medication to see if its the right fit for you, and adjust your diagnosis if it’s incorrect. Ultimately it’s up to you and your psychologist, don’t let me influence your decision.”

 

“It’s not fair,” exclaimed Jim. “I don’t understand how my life is such a wreck. Ughhh.” Jim plopped down on Dwight’s bed. “I’m such a screw up, where did I go wrong? I was fine until college. Then everything just became awful.” Dwight sat down by Jim’s head and started massaging it. 

 

“It’s nothing you’ve done. It’s more than likely your brain chemistry. For some people it’s just off. You can’t help it.”

 

“I’m defective then,” Jim said sardonically.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Being defective makes you unique. Like a limited edition production error bobble head, or a rifle that holds one too many bullets.” Jim snorted. He could count on Dwight to be honest at least.

 

“I’m afraid to go back to work,” Jim confided. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy, Pam told me about the card. It’s embarrassing, having people know I’m off. I think once I’m settled I’ll try finding another job. Maybe the Scranton school district is hiring now.” 

 

“You can stay here. I’d take care of you and you wouldn’t have to work until you were ready.”

 

“I couldn’t do that. When I first graduated I was unemployed for six, maybe eight months? It was awful. I didn’t do anything, ever. I need to be doing something. So I need a job, just so I don’t go stir crazy. Stir crazier.” Dwight sat silent. Jim inadvertently confirmed Dwight’s suspicion that he had been depressed before. 

 

“I’d mention that too, that you’ve experienced this before. That sounds like depression.” It was Jim’s turn to be quiet.

 

“So, are you sure it’s fine for me to take your car all the way to NYC,” he asked instead. Dwight nodded.

 

“I don’t have a problem with it, unless you have a better solution? You could ride with Andy, but you’d be trapped there until Sunday and miss hanging out with your fun family.”

 

“How horrible.” Dwight laughed at Jim’s sarcastic response. 

 

“Spending time with your siblings will be fun. You can take the opportunity to bring up your parents actions and see what they think about it.” Jim sat up and hugged Dwight.

 

“Hmm. I just don’t want to think that far ahead right now. I just need to get through New York without appearing like a lunatic.”

 

“I’m sure your Stamford buddies will be happy to see you.” Jim told Dwight everything except the real reason he was going to New York. Dwight was the type to normally like espionage missions, but Jim could also see Dwight getting upset that  _ he  _ was doing the snooping around.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be happy to see them too.” Jim finished arranging everything he planned on taking with him and threw his bag on the floor. He slung into the bed, ready to sleep. Dwight finished getting ready for bed and climbed in with him.

 

* * *

 

Jim’s appointment with Dr. Padukone wasn’t going well. Jim told her about the memory loss and showed her the paintings. She agreed with Roy and Dwight that the memory loss wasn’t a normal thing, and that there was a possibility that he did the paintings he found.

 

“I disagree, why would my sister lie? What does she gain from that? Being able to fuck with me? She’s not like that!”

 

“I’d say she’s trying to protect you. As it stands there’s a period of your life that you cannot remember. You’re not old enough to not remember long periods of your life. You should be able to recall something from that time, but you can’t. You said your the only artist in your family, and the pictures are dated for one of the years you can’t remember. Your mother and sister gave different reasons for why the paintings existed, and your brother couldn’t collaborate either story. All three seemed concerned that the paintings would trigger you. I think you painted them, Jim.” 

 

“I still disagree,” Jim said stubbornly. 

 

He also showed her the texts from his parents threatening him.

 

“I’d continue to stay at your friend’s house for time being. It seems like your parents are doing their best to isolate you. I cannot say for certain that they will use force to bring you back, but they won’t be able to get law enforcement involved so long as others have heard and seen you. Continue to interact with other friends and family, that way your parents can’t claim your missing.”

 

Dr. Padukone looked uncomfortable, as if she had something else she wanted to say. “I want to talk more about your memory loss...I feel it’s a symptom of something bigger.”

 

“Bigger how,” Jim asked.

 

“Potential trauma.” Jim knitted his brows together.

 

“Nothing traumatic happened to me as a kid, I think you’re just reaching now.” 

 

“Memory loss is often the result your subconscious or external forces repressing unpleasant experiences in order to protect oneself. I think it’s fair to say that’s the case with you. Your paintings may also be glimpses into how you were feeling at the time.”

 

“I didn’t paint them,” Jim said frustratedly. He felt like Dr. Padukone was purposely ignoring him. She gave him a tight smile in response.

 

“I think if we can get to the root of the trauma then we could make good headway into your current treatment.”

 

“There’s no trauma!” She watched him sadly.

 

“I want to recommend a more in depth psychiatric treatment, maybe via in patient treatment. I would still be your primary psychologist, but maybe a you could take a week or two to meet with doctors who specialize in trauma and memory related issues….”

 

“No,” said Jim, a bright smile on his face. Dr. Padukone was shocked.

 

“No?”

 

“No,” he said again, smiling harder. 

 

“I think this would be a good step for you. You also mentioned feeling as if the Zoloft wasn’t working, they could potentially put you on different medication. They’d be able to help you immensely in a week or two, and it’d help with later therapy sessions since we’d know what to address. I believe there’s an underlying cause to your issues.”

 

“Yeah, my parents! They're the reason I’m crazy, not some deep rooted secret that I don’t even know about! You can’t force me to go!”

 

“I don’t want to, which is why I recommended it to you. Your memory loss might also be the reason why your parents respond to you the way they do and—.”

 

“So it’s  _ my _ fault my parents are abusive? Good to fucking know!”

 

“I did not say that, Jim…,” Dr. Padukone said, but Jim already stood to leave. “Where are you going? We still have another thirty minutes left.”

 

“I’m leaving. You can bill me for the hour, but I’m not going to sit here and take this. You’re supposed to be helping me, but you aren’t. We don’t need to schedule another appointment, I’ll find another psychologist.”

 

“Jim, I did not insinuate that it is somehow your fault that your parents respond to you the way they do. I simply believe there is something else driving their motives. Your memory loss might be it.”

 

“And I disagree,” he said exasperatedly. “You’re ignoring me and saying shit that doesn’t make sense. I don’t find you helpful. You fucking suck.”

 

Dr. Padukone took a deep breath. Jim wasn’t the first patient of hers who had been upset with their therapy session, or their diagnosis. He wouldn’t be the last. She needed to redirect his emotions before he did something irrational which would force her to have him involuntarily committed.

 

“Tell me, why don’t you find me helpful? We’ve only had two sessions and I was under the impression that we were making decent progress.”

 

“I thought the entire point of you was to talk to me about my feelings in a conducive manner, but I felt like shit when I left here last week and I feel like shit now!”

 

“Sometimes therapy is rough Jim. We need to sort through all of the bad so we can get you to the point that you’re happy. It’s not going to happen in two sessions, it takes most people weeks, or months to get to that point. Sometimes years.”

 

“I looked up on WebMD that men don’t typically have BPD. I think you misdiagnosed me.” Dr. Padukone groaned. She could tell last week that Jim wasn’t happy with his diagnosis, but again, that was common. In the thirty five minutes he’d been here he hadn’t given her any reason to believe her diagnosis was wrong. In fact, she was even more convinced that it fit.

 

“Men can have BPD. It’s just that the symptoms of BPD are seen as traits of alpha male types, and society tends to favor those types. Men are also less likely to seek out psychiatric help. When they do they’re misdiagnosed. I think your diagnosis was a good fit. Can you tell me why you think it’s a bad fit?” Jim didn’t say anything. Right.

 

“I don’t appreciate you arguing objective fact with me. I had a good childhood growing up. I got to experience things that others didn’t due to my privilege. Outside of my parents being jackasses when I was a teen my life’s been great! No trauma!”

 

“Okay,” was all Dr. Padukone said.

 

“Alright. Are we done here?” Jim had a lot more he wanted to say, like mentioning his sister’s childhood therapist and the fact that she’d confirm that Larissa painted those pictures, or his weird dreams, or the fact he was no longer tied to a love contract. But she’d managed to piss him off and he didn’t want to engage with her anymore. 

 

“Yeah, you can leave. I’ll see you next week?” Jim watched Dr. Padukone bitterly.

 

“Fine. I’ll see you next week.” Dr. Padukone smiled and dismissed Jim. 

 

* * *

 

Jim was tense the entire drive to New York. He kept thinking about how Dr. Padukone wanted him to go to a mental facility. Dwight wanted him to go to a mental facility. He wasn’t that bad! He didn’t think he was at least. Sure, his life was a wreck right now and his BPD and depression played a large role in that, but wasn’t medication and  _ good  _ therapy suppose to fix that? It made sense he was still a mess, his meds hadn't started to work yet and Dr. Padukone didn’t seem like she wanted to help him. Instead she twisted the things he told her to make it seem like he was abused as a child. She probably just wanted to institutionalize him to get rid of him, she didn’t like him and was now trying to clean her hands of him. She probably got an insurance payout whenever she threw someone in the loony bin. Yeah, that made sense to Jim. He didn’t belong there. At all.

 

When he finally got to the city Jim was fired up. He had some time to spare before he needed to check in or meet up with anyone so Jim headed to Fifth Avenue and 57th Street. He found valet parking and tossed his keys at the valet. The valet looked like he didn’t want to take Dwight’s old Nissan, but did once he realized Jim wouldn’t stop staring at him until he did. Jim scoffed and walked off. He wouldn’t be getting a tip.

 

He went to the closest UBS he could find and stuck his Centurion card into the ATM. He told himself he’d never use the cards his parents gave him, but he didn’t care anymore. They ruined his life as far as he was concerned so he could try to bleed them dry if he wanted. He attempted to withdraw ten thousand dollars but the ATM wouldn’t let him, claiming fraudulent activity. Two security guards exited the UBS and approached Jim. “We need you to come in for a second,” one guard said. The other took the card from Jim’s hands and pocketed it. Jim was miffed but held his tongue and followed them.

 

Inside the branch the bank manager sat down with Jim and the security guards. “Where did you find this card young man,” he asked Jim sweetly, as if he were talking to a child. Jim guessed he didn’t look like he’d have a Centurion card, or bank at UBS.

 

“It’s mine.”

 

“Ah. Well, we cater to a specific clientele here at UBS. We cannot lend money to just anyone, you need an account here. We’ll hold on to  _ your  _ card, you should have no problem getting another one if it’s yours. The guards will show you out.” 

 

Jim cracked his and stretched his arms. “Do you have withdrawal slips here? I just want to make a withdrawal.” The bank manager sneered at him while flagging down another guard, this one to probably call the police. The bank teller pulled a withdrawal slip out of his desk and handed it and a pen to Jim. He sat on the edge of his desk and peered down at Jim while he filled it out.

 

“You must have an account here to make withdrawals. I’m not sure how it’s done at Bank of America or Chase, but we do not loan cash to people with no money here.”

 

“Sit the fuck down,” said Jim, not looking up from the withdrawal slip. The bank manager faltered.

 

“Who are you to talk to me in such a way?”

 

“I hate people looking down on me, if you want to talk to me then bring yourself to my level,” replied Jim. The bank manager scoffed and continued to stare Jim down, hoping he’d leave without causing a scene. The third guard came back with two NYPD officers in tow. Jim handed the withdrawal slip and his ID to the bank manager. He snatched it from his hands and ran it through the system as a formality. The bank manager blanched at his findings.

 

James Halpert  _ did _ have an account with UBS. Multiple ones in fact. All untouched, full of money and linked to the accounts of Betsy Halpert, Gerald Halpert, and Larissa Halpert-Chang. The latter was a particularly big client of the bank, although the Halperts themselves were nothing to scoff at. But the bank manager did, and suddenly felt super embarrassed.

 

“Oh! Mr. Halpert, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience! Is there something I can get you to drink,” he stammered out. Jim shook his head.

 

“The money?”

 

“I...let me process this withdrawal, alright?” He fled from his office leaving Jim with the three guards and two police officers. 

 

“Don’t you have people to kill,” Jim asked the police officers, trolling for a reaction. Neither said anything and Jim sighed. This was super embarrassing. How dare this rando look down on him? He didn’t even know him! He made assumptions about Jim just because his card was declined at the ATM. How was Jim to know that he couldn’t just withdraw money using the card? He guessed if he used it more he would have known that, but still. He didn’t see what gave the bank manager the right. Maybe he thought Jim looked like a crazy weirdo off the streets. Maybe he could tell Jim was crazy, and they weren’t supposed to let crazy people withdraw money. Regardless, he had no business looking down on Jim, not when Jim was technically more important than he was. If anything, Jim should look down on him!

 

Except, that wasn’t right and Jim knew it.

 

The bank manager came back carrying the ten grand in a complimentary bag. Jim wanted to send him back for another withdrawal, just to embarrass the manager the way he did him, but decided against it. He didn’t want to come off as psychotic, especially in front of the police. Instead he took the bag and his card. “I can assume there’s ten grand even in this bag?” The bank manager nodded. Jim sighed and left the bank.

 

Jim still felt charged up, and headed back towards Fifth Avenue. He needed stuff for his ski trip with his siblings. He had skis and the appropriate clothes, but they were holed up at home where they were of no use to him. He walked for ten minutes until he found himself at the Louis Vuitton store. A sales associate ran over to him with a fake smile plastered on her face.

 

“Hello sir, how can I help you today?”

 

“I’m going skiing and I need clothes for that. Do you sell skis here too?” She nodded and led Jim to the men’s section of the store. He tried on their ski wear without looking at the price. He could feel the sales associate staring at him in the mirror. “What,” he bit out. 

 

“You’re very skinny. That’s our smallest size in those and it looks a bit big on you,” she said a bit worriedly. Jim tried ignoring her. She was probably already judging him in her head, she probably thought he was crazy too. He wouldn’t be shocked if everyone in New York could tell.

 

“You have tailors here don’t you? Can you take them in for me?” She nodded. 

 

“We can have them done in two hours if you want to wait?” 

 

“No, I’ll walk around and come back.” She nodded again and took Jim’s measurements. Once finished she took his items to the in store tailor. He paid upfront using the Centurion card. He didn’t pay attention to the price.

 

“Do you guys get paid commission here,” he asked. The sales associate shook her head.  _ That sucks  _ thought Jim. He guessed Dunder Mifflin wasn’t that bad, he at least got a commission on most of his sales. 

 

“Do you want to leave the skis here until later too? It’ll be hell walking around with them.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” 

 

He left the Louis Vuitton store and paused. Where would he go now? All of his senses were telling him to move, that he couldn’t stand still. He walked a couple of blocks and stopped in front of Kate Spade. He didn’t need anything out of here, he had no clue why he stopped here. He still felt antsy though. He guessed he could get Pam something for allowing him to spill his guts to her the other day, he figured she’d like this kind of stuff. It’d be repaying her in kind for the nice gesture she gave him. Hopefully he didn’t come across as trying to buy her love and affection. No, he wouldn’t! Friends bought each other gifts all the time, and they were friends again. It made plenty of sense to him. 

 

He entered the store and got her four bracelets, a tote, a notebook, and a gold necklace with a ‘P’ on it. He exited the store feeling strangely empty. Was buying her these a good idea? He didn't want her to think he was flaunting his money in her face. He was just being nice! Maybe buying everyone else something would level the field. That way he wouldn’t feel awkward giving it to her! It made sense to him.

 

He walked back towards Louis Vuitton and hit up Hermes where he bought Andy a couple of ties and Josh a bottle of cologne. Jim then went to Goyard around the corner and got Dwight a new monogrammed briefcase. He stopped at the Apple store across from Louis Vuitton and bought Dwight a drone to go in the bag. He still had a bit of time to kill before he needed to be back so he went to Burberry and got Karen earrings. He then went to Gucci and got Roy cufflinks, a watch, a necklace, rings, cologne, and a bracelet. He finally walked back to Louis Vuitton to get his things. The sales associate who helped him earlier was there waiting for him. 

 

“You’re right on time! How was your shopping trip,” she asked eyeballing his bags. 

 

“It was fine,” Jim replied shakily. The sales associate pulled the handkerchief out of her breast pocket and wiped at Jim’s face with it. “What are you doing,” he asked shocked.

 

“You were crying. I hate seeing young people cry. I take it your retail therapy didn’t work?”

 

Jim looked at himself in the nearest mirror. He had tears streaming down his face and his eyes were pink tinged. How long had he been crying? Were his emotions so out of whack that he couldn’t tell what he was feeling anymore? “I guess not,” he answered. The sales associate gave him a small smile and left her handkerchief with him while she grabbed his things. He quickly ordered an Uber and purchased a clean handkerchief to replace her now sullied one with.

 

“Here’s your things, you should be good to go!” Jim took his bags and skis from her, and handed her the new handkerchief. She looked at him quizzically.

 

“Since I dirtied the other one. Thank you.” He turned and left the store, lugging all of his junk with him outside. 

 

Why did he buy any of this? Now he looked like a show off. He didn’t feel any better by buying them, just hollow and tired. Whatever brief energy he had earlier was gone and now replaced with regret, dread, and self loathing. 

 

Jim loaded his stuff into the Uber when it arrived and entered in the address of the building closest to where he left his car. When he got back to valet the same attendant was there. He pulled Dwight’s car around and helped Jim try to maneuver his skis into the car. Jim tipped him despite thinking he wouldn’t earlier. He parked shitty cars all day, his hesitation probably had less to do with Dwight’s car being old and more to do with Jim looking nuts. 

 

Jim drove to his hotel forlornly. He had valet park him again, and checked himself in. He dumped all his stuff on the table and hopped into bed, dead tired. He’d retry his day once he woke up, but for now he just wanted to sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses to what's going on with the Halperts? Do you think Jim needs to be checked in to a facility, or is everyone overreacting?
> 
> -
> 
> Oh my god! I'm sorry it took so long to update this, almost an entire month. I have this entire story already plotted out, but for some reason I could not write this chapter! I even had to split it in have since it was taking so long! I started like three other short stories instead of writing this, but then stopped because I felt guilty towards this story lol. The next update should be later this week, and hopefully I'll be back to one update a week.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's trip to New York continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not been beta read. If you see any mistakes please let me know!

Jim woke up two hours later, still tired but in a better mood than he was before he fell asleep. He still wasn’t due to meet Andy for another two hours, and needed to occupy his time. He decided to go to the salon down the street for a haircut. He had been putting it out for a while, since he moved back to Scranton, and honestly his hair was contributing to his crazed looked. Once he looked presentable he headed back to his hotel and showered. 

 

Jim laid out his plan for the night. He and Andy would hang out for an hour or two before meeting up with Karen and Josh. They’d eat dinner together and catch up, before heading to a bar to drink. Since Karen and Josh worked tomorrow Jim fully expected them to be done by 10pm. Andy would probably want to go to a different bar and stay out until midnight. That gave Jim two hours to find Dr. Hanson and shake her down for information.

 

He tried not to focus on why he was looking for her. At this point anything to do with his family or even himself made his emotions and brain feel jumbled up. He was still feeling pretty normal after his nap, and he didn’t want to ruin the good vibes. He dug through his duffel bag for his evening wear and his Zoloft. He popped two despite taking his recommended dosage in the morning. He wanted to be sure this day wouldn’t spiral anymore than it already had.

 

Jim finished getting dressed and went to meet Andy in Midtown. He spotted Andy waiting in front of a Starbucks and went over to him. “Whoa, Big Tuna has a big haircut,” Andy said as way of greeting. Jim waved back at him. He shoved Andy’s gift into his hands. After much deliberating Jim decided to give everyone the gifts he purchased. He already bought them and returning them would be a hassle. There was no point in feeling bad about doing something nice.

 

“Wow Large Tuna, I didn’t get you anything,” Andy said, looking at the ties. He took the one he was wearing off and replaced it with a purple one from the gift bag.

 

“Don’t worry about it, I saw them and they reminded me of you.” Andy held the Hermes bag up and Jim turned to see who he was showing them to. He saw Dave, Brian, and a few other production members filming them.  _ Fucking shit  _ thought Jim, his good mood dwindling. “Why are they here,” he asked, outright ignoring the production team. 

 

“They wanted to see Karen and Josh and get an update on them. It’s great that you’re here too! The four amigos are reunited again! Or the three amigos and their traitor boss. Or the three amigos and the transfer.” The intern who Jim snapped at last time slowly approached him with a lavalier mic. However, one look at Jim’s angry face was enough to cause her to back away again. “We can just pick him up on the boom mics,” she said shakily. Andy’s smile faltered at the change in Jim’s mood. Jim noticed this and put on his best fake smile.

 

“No, you can mic me up, it’s no problem!” She approached once more and put the mic on Jim as fast as she could before speeding away. He sighed. The night wasn’t off to a good start, but it could be salvaged.

 

“What do you want to do first,” asked Jim.

 

“I wanted to do some shopping, I want to give Angela something since she had to take a break….”

 

“Yeah, she deserves something after that break she took,” said Jim sarcastically. Andy didn’t pick up on it. They walked around the streets bordering Central Park and made their way to Madison Avenue. Andy tried to go into Kate Spade, the  same one Jim visited earlier. Jim stopped him, not wanting Pam and Angela to have similar gifts. “Angela seems more like a Tory Burch kind of girl, you know? A tad bit more conservative.” Andy nodded happily and led Jim to the Tory Burch store at the end of the block.

 

Andy took forever to pick something out for Angela, to the point that Dave stopped rolling the camera and the crew loitered around the store for a bit. He finally picked an ugly bag that Jim was sure Angela would love. 

 

“I’m gonna drop this off at my hotel, and then we can head over to meet Karen!”

 

Jim followed Andy back to his hotel room...at the Cornell Club. Of course. They hung out in his room while they waited for Karen and Josh to finish work.

 

“How’s your dad doing, Tuna,” asked Andy.

 

“He’s getting better. Everyday is a new challenge but we’re taking it slow,” Jim lied. 

 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, I hope he gets better.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be back at work after next week. Hopefully he’s better by then!”

 

“Is it okay that you’re here? I know I asked you to come but I hope I’m not pulling you away from anything important.”

 

“Oh no, it’s fine! I’d rather be here you know, it’s depressing at home and I need some time away.” It wasn’t a lie. Andy nodded understandingly. “How’s everything with you Andy?”

 

“I’ve been good! Me and some of the guys from the gym are planning on running a half marathon in the spring, so I’ve started preparing for that. It’s freaking hard, man. I’m trying to bulk up so I’ve been on a diet, an “eat more” diet! I’ve also been attending therapy every week. It’s very rewarding!”

 

“I’m glad to hear everything’s all good Andy. I’m still sorry for making you navigate Scranton all alone, I’m a shitty friend. I hope all of your fitness related goals go well, I hate exercising of any kind so I can’t even imagine doing any of that. You’re gonna start lifting soon too, right?”

 

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it! But you’re not a shitty friend Tuna, you’re the only person in the office that’s given me the time of day. You’ve been stressed since the transfer and I know how hard you’ve been working to not let it show. I can’t blame you, I didn’t know you were covering for Tony, Hannah, and Martin. That’s a lot of work for one person. I guess I figured their workload kinda just disappeared and never really considered someone had to be picking up the slack. I just appreciate the fact that you talked to me and hung out with me.”

 

“I still could have done more. I suck.” 

 

Andy rolled his eyes. “I think you’re fine. We should head out now, don’t you think?” They walked to the restaurant where they were meeting Josh and Karen, the production staff following them the entire time. By time they got there Josh and Karen were already sitting and drinking.

 

“Andy, Jim,” Karen shouted, running over to hug them. She ran her hands through Jim’s hair, tousling it. Jim picked her up in a bear hug but quickly put her back down once he realized he didn’t have the strength to hold her. Instead he followed her back to their booth.

 

“Jim, Andy, how have you been,” Josh asked, giving them both brief hugs. Jim shrugged while Andy gave them a quick update about his life. 

 

“I have something for you guys,” said Jim, pulling Karen and Josh’s gifts out of his bag. They both took them gratefully. He watched their shock as they opened them and saw the designer goods they received.

 

“Whoa, this is pricey, Jim! You didn’t have to buy this,” said Karen. Jim gave her a small smile.

 

“I wanted to, so please just accept them. How’s Staples been treating you two?”

 

“It’s so tiring, we work so many hours. I don’t even see Karen half the time. I’m there at 6am and leave by 7pm; I’m in bed by like 9 or 10pm. It really puts it into perspective how much shit Dunder Mifflin let us get away with,” said Josh.

 

“You sold your soul for a raise, traitor,” Jim said jovially. He immediately regretted it, finding the comment too mean; he didn’t want Josh to hate him too. “Sorry,” he backtracked.

 

Josh laughed. “You’re totally right! I did it to myself. The pay makes up for it, hopefully I can retire early.”

 

“We’re losing the prime years of our lives,” said Karen with a sigh. “It’s only been a couple of months but I’m already sick of it.”

 

“Then what’s your next move,” Jim asked.

 

“I dunno. Maybe find a job elsewhere in the city? I’d have to stay for a year before I could look for a new job.”

 

Andy flagged down a waitress so they could place food orders. Jim asked for a plain side salad and a sidecar. As he placed his drink order he felt a hard tap on his head. He looked up and saw the boom mic hanging over his head with an irate Brian at the end of it. He turned back around and saw Andy giving him a sad and pitying look.

 

_ What the fuck?  _ Jim thought before realizing that he had told both Andy and Brian he was an alcoholic at one point. Jesus. 

 

“I’ll take a ginger beer instead,” Jim said.

 

“You’re not gonna drink Halpert? How boring,” said Josh.

 

“You’re not even eating! A side salad, seriously,” asked Karen. “You’re stick thin, you need more meat on your bones!” Karen ended up ordering a steak that she and Jim would share. Jim rolled his eyes at everyone’s prying into his diet but held his tongue. The waitress walked off leaving them to continue catching up.

 

“So, why are you on leave Jim,” asked Karen.

 

“My dad’s sick.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that Jim. Are you okay being here?”

 

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Jim replied dismissively. Karen gave him a tight smile and took the hint that Jim didn’t want to talk about his family.

 

“Are you seeing anyone then?”

 

“Not really...I guess I’m feeling different people out right now, if you can say that.”

 

“Oh? Are you interested in any of them?”

 

“Yeah. They’re nice and I could see myself being with them. I need to get my life together before I seriously try dating.”

 

“Oooh! Big Tuna has a crush! What does she look like!”

 

“Brunette. Are you seeing anyone Karen?” She nodded and began telling Jim all about the man she recently started going out with. Their food arrived and Jim at the bare minimal amount of steak Karen would allow him to eat, along with his side salad. He felt proud of himself, it was easily the most food he’d eaten in one sitting during the past week. Maybe he just needed to take more Zoloft and he’d be okay. 

 

They left the restaurant after Josh covered everyone’s bill. “What do you all want to do next? Probably not a bar since Jim’s not drinking,” asked Josh. Jim pulled his phone out and looked for something to do.

 

“There’s a retro arcade near here, that might be fun,” he suggested. He saw Brian shift away from him out of the corner of his eye. Whatever, no one told him he had to come. 

 

“You sure Jim? I distinctly remember you being shit at video games,” chided Josh.

 

“Uhh, those were on a PC. I rock at video games, asshole. Sounds like you’re scared!” Josh snorted. They ended up at the arcade where Jim competed against Josh on a few games. He lost every time.

 

“Wow, you were talking a lot of shit earlier Halpert. What happened?”

 

“Whatever, old man. You were probably playing these when they first came out,” Jim replied with a smile. At the end of the night everyone pooled their tickets together to get Karen a prize. 

 

“You guys heading out,” asked Andy. Karen nodded.

 

“I probably should,” Karen replied apologetically. “I have a busy day tomorrow.”

 

“I’m getting too old for nights out on the town,” yawned Josh. Jim gave Karen a hug before she departed.

 

“I missed you Jim. Come visit more often, you’re not that far away!”

 

“Will do Kar. I’ll come on the weekend next time so you don’t crash by 9:30.”

 

“Hopefully next time I see you you’re dating your brunette girl. I hope you’re not still hung up over the receptionist.” Jim hugged her tighter before flagging down a taxi for her and Josh. He and Andy waved them off before turning to each other.

 

“So, what do you wanna do now,” Jim asked Andy. 

 

“I’m a bit beat. I’m thinking of heading back to the Club. Unless you have any ideas?”

 

“Oh no, that’s fine. I don’t want to keep you. I’m still here tomorrow, will you be free?”

 

“I should be Big Tuna! I’ll let you know if I’m not. We should go to a movie or something, the theatres here are way better than the ones in Scranton!” Jim walked Andy back to his hotel. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight Tuna, I hope I wasn’t imposing.”

 

“No problem, Andy. It’s nice to be invited places, plus I was already planning on being in the city. I would have stayed in my room all day or something had you not invited me out.” The two hugged before Andy ran inside the Cornell Club, the production staff following him. He handed his mic back to the intern who took it before scrambling off. He sighed. Regardless Jim was happy. This was easily the best night he had since he transferred back to Scranton three months ago. He hoped nothing would happen to spoil it.

 

* * *

 

Jim headed to the bar that Dr. Hanson like to frequent on Wednesday nights. He hoped he’d be able to get information out of her. He didn’t have Roy’s stalker skills, nor did he have Dwight predilection for espionage. He did have his charm though, and he hoped it’d be enough. He showed his ID at the door and entered. Jim hoped Dr. Hanson didn’t make any drastic changes to her appearances since her scandal; her last pictures were from it and that was the image he had in his head of her. He moved through the spacious yet packed bar looking for someone who fit the bill. 

 

He couldn’t find her.

 

Jim sat at the bar dejectedly. It was a shot in the dark, he knew that, but he had hoped everything would work out in his favor. He thought he deserved that much. He ordered himself a drink. He’d call an Uber and try again tomorrow, and if that didn’t work then he’d come back to the city next week and try again. He pulled his phone out and opened the Uber app when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Jim turned and saw a petite brunette woman eyeing him up.

 

_ Jessica Hanson  _ he thought. He put his phone away and diverted all his attention to her.

 

“Hello,” Dr. Hanson slurred. She was already drunk.  _ Good _ Jim thought, it made his job easier.

 

“Hey. Are you alright? You seem a bit shaky.”

 

“I’m fine! Are  _ you _ fine? Because I think you are,” she giggled. Jim smiled down at her.

 

“Yeah, I am. And if you say you’re fine then so are you. C’mon, let's get you a seat.” Jim stood and helped Dr. Hanson into the chair he previously occupied. He had to make sure multiple times the drunk woman wouldn’t fall over and hurt herself. The bartender gave her a disgusted look; her drunken behavior must have been normal. “So,” Jim began, “What’s a refined woman such as yourself doing in a bar like this?”

 

“Drinking. Partying. Being sexy. What brings you here, handsome?” Jim thought of a lie.

 

“De-stressing after exams. I thought I’d try this bar out, never been here before.”

 

“You’re still in school? College boys are cute. What year are you?” The bartender gave Jim a look that said “do not proceed” and he understood why. College boys are cute...disgusting. Instead he pushed on and leaned down to her ear.

 

“I’m a freshman, but don’t tell security that,” he whispered. She smiled up at him and Jim felt gross. “I’m at Fordham. What do you do...I didn’t catch your name, actually.”

 

“I’m Jessica!”

 

“Do you have a last name, Jessica,” Jim asked on the off chance he had the wrong drunk, pervy, middle aged woman.

 

“Hanson!” Bingo. “What’s your name, handsome?”

 

“Jack. So, what did you say you did?”

 

“Nothing really. I’m retired. I spend my days enjoying the city and my nights enjoying the bars,” she said, watching Jim lustfully. He bit back a groan and continued to smile at her. 

 

“That’s so cool! New York is an expensive city to retire in, I can barely afford tuition.”

 

“It’s costly, but I like the big city.”

 

“Why not a city that’s a bit cheaper? Like Atlanta, or Austin, or Philly….” Jessica’s eyes darkened at the mention of Philly.

 

“All of those cities are lame! You don’t get the full experience like you do in New York.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim agreed, “New York is a lot of fun. It’s so expensive though, I’ve seriously contemplated transferring schools. I can’t afford it. Your retirement package must have been good.” 

 

“It really is a shame about the price, I’m running low on savings; probably won’t make rent this month. I hope everything works out with you and your money though,” she slurred.

 

“Wow, that sucks. What are you gonna do? I don’t mean to pry, but maybe you could go back to work? You seem young for a retiree.” Jessica shuttered before turning away from him. Jim moved to stand on the other side of her seat. “Did I say something wrong? You’re really youthful looking!”

 

“Noooooo. I’ve tried working on and off for the last couple of years, but no one wants my services,” she explained.  _ Good, you’re a fucking creep  _ Jim thought.

 

“Oh no, why?”

 

“I had bad  _ rumors  _ spread about me in my industry. Now no one trusts me.”

 

“What did you work in?”

 

“Psychiatry.”

 

“Damn, that’s shitty! Why would someone spread rumors about you? Seems very cruel. What did they say, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

“That I’m a pedophile! I’m not, I’ve never slept with anyone underage. It was a hit job!” 

 

“Why would someone say that? What’s to gain from it?”

 

“Someone asked me to do something for her and I was morally against it. She didn’t like my response and decided to tell the administration that I was sleeping with students.”

 

“Administration? Students? Were you a teacher,” Jim asked.

 

“Yeah, I taught at UPenn for a while before someone became bitter I wouldn’t allow her to throw her weight at me anymore.” Jim rolled his eyes. Regardless of whatever the snitching person asked of Jessica she still did something morally dubious by sleeping with her students. She wasn’t innocent in all of this.

 

“Did you teach psychology? That’s so cool! I think I might want to major in that.”

 

“It’s a thankless field, kid, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

 

“Well, what did you specialize in? What classes did you teach?”

 

“Child and adolescent psychiatry. I also specialized in hypnotherapy but I was never allowed to teach any courses in it.” Jim’s eyebrows skyrocketed upwards. Hypnotherapy? Like hypnotizing people? Was that even real?

 

“Hypnotherapy? Like from  _ Get Out _ ? How does that work?” Jessica nodded.

 

“Yeah, like  _ Get Out _ except I don’t use a teacup or kill black people. Instead I’d put patients under using music or pleasant sounds. From there I’d be able to talk them into suppressing memories or urges. I mostly used it for children who were addicted to hard drugs and whatnot. If they got through the withdrawal and detox stage then the hypnotherapy was a good preventative measure to make sure they didn’t get addicted again. I also used it on kids addicted to video games, anime, smoking, and social media.” Jim had no idea what to say. He didn’t believe that was a thing people could actually do in real life, but there was no point in Jessica lying to a stranger at the bar about it.

 

“That’s cool. Uh, when you were a psych did you have any interesting cases?”  _ Like my sister  _ Jim thought.

 

“Yeah, plenty.” Jim gave her a look that implored her to continue. “I can’t tell you more, it’d be a HIPAA violation.”

 

“You’re not practicing anymore,” said Jim, annoyed. “You don’t have to use names.”

 

“It’s still unethical.”

 

“What if I bought you another drink? Would you tell me then?” Jessica, like the alcoholic Jim presumed she was, actually considered it. 

 

“I want a bourbon on the rocks then.” Jim complied.

 

“Did you work in Pennsylvania? Any good cases from there?” Jessica didn’t answer, still waiting for her drink. Once she got it she downed it in one go before speaking.

 

“I worked for some rich family in Pennsylvania who wanted me to put one  of their kids under. The kid had gone through something traumatic and was deeply disturbed. I had never dealt with anything like that you know, when I had to hypnotize someone it was for addiction. Wiping trauma from a child’s memories was a whole ‘nother ballpark. I had to remove almost an entire year from the kid’s mind. But I did it over a couple of sessions. After like six the kid didn’t remember anything. The parents called me to do tune ups a few times, but I refused to do it once. I think the kid is well adjusted, but who knows? Hypnotherapy isn’t supposed to be used for something like that. You can’t use it to suppress memories long term. With addictions hypnotherapy works long enough that the recipients adjust to life without the addiction. Once the effects of the therapy wear off they’ve cleared the hurdle of addiction and are no longer craving drugs. But with this kid their memories might come back. I don’t know. I’ve washed my hands of that case regardless.” 

 

Jim had no way of knowing if Jessica was talking about his family. Was this about Larissa? Or…

 

“What was the name of the patient,” Jim demanded.

 

“Can’t tell you that Jack. I’ve already said too much.”

 

“Exactly, you’ve said so much, you might as well finish.”

 

“God, no. You’re pushy aren’t you? I hope you’re the same in bed,” she joked. She looked into Jim’s eyes and saw him staring back at her coldheartedly. She decided sex wasn’t worth the trouble of putting up with him and moved to get away. However Jim grabbed her by the arm to keep her there.

 

“What was the name of the patient,” he asked again.

 

“No! God, why do you want to know? I’m gonna scream if you don’t let me go!” Jim bent down close to her ear.

 

“How about if I got you another drink? Would you tell me then?” Jessica yearned for more alcohol, but she wasn’t going to let some college bro coerce her into giving away patient information.

 

“Absolutely not. Screw off, Jack.”

 

“What If I gave you money? You said you were having financial problems earlier. Is fifty dollars good?”

 

“I’m calling security.”

 

“I don’t get the feeling you’re very popular at this bar. You can try. How about one hundred.”

 

“I’m not telling you. I don’t know why you want to know this but I’m not telling you.”

 

“A thousand then.” Jessica faltered. A thousand was a lot of money, and her savings was depleting. She wasn’t even a doctor anymore, why did she have to care about HIPAA? It’d be easy money, and she wouldn’t be putting out.

 

“...no,” she said instead, trying to hold onto her last shreds of integrity.

 

“Two thousand? Five thousand?” That was a lot of money, two months rent. She really needed it.

 

“No, Jack please. Respect the fact that I said no.” Jim sighed. 

 

“Ten thousand.” That would cover four months rent for her. With that much money it was hard to say no. 

 

“James Halpert,” she said, feeling her resolve crack. Jim’s face crumbled at her answer.

 

“W-What happened to him?”

 

“It’s fucked up. You’re better off not knowing.”

 

Jim pulled Jessica out of the bar by her arm. He wasn’t lying about her being unpopular, no one stopped him from manhandling her out of the bar. That would have be bad if he wanted to harm her. He knew she was a social pariah but this was too much.

 

“Let me go,” she repeatedly hollered, attracting attention from pedestrians. No one helped her. Jim flagged down a taxi and deposited Jessica into the back of it. 

 

“Go home, Jessica,” he said, handing her the ten grand he promised her. He moved to the front of the taxi and gave the driver fifty dollars. “Take her where she needs to go and keep the change.” Before closing the door on Jessica he pulled his business card out of his wallet. He scribbled his cell phone number on it with a pen from the driver and handed it to her. “Call me when you get in so I know you’re okay.”

 

“Oh, fuck you Jack! I never want to hear from you again!” Jessica looked down at the card. “Dunder Mifflin, what is that?” Jim watched as the confusion on her face turned into realization and then horror. “Jim—,” she called, but he slammed the door to the taxi in her face and watched as it sped off.

 

Jim sighed and called himself an Uber, not wanting to deal with anything he found out. So much for having a good night.

 

* * *

 

Jim didn’t want to get out of bed the next morning. He wanted to melt into his sheets and die. As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, something bad happened to him as a child, and he couldn’t remember it. Dr. Padukone was right, again. He had some hidden trauma although it wasn’t his subconscious that hid it, it was his parents and Jessica Hanson. He probably painted those horrific paintings too. He had to be what, eight, or nine? He didn’t even want to think about what happened to him that made him produce such hideous pictures.

 

He had to face the truth though. He took out his laptop and pulled up his journal. He looked at all of the strange dreams he had as of late. He had convinced himself they were scenes from some awful snuff film he had watched. But that didn’t seem likely anymore. It was more likely that he was slowly remembering what happened to him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not.

 

He tried to find something to distract himself with. He texted Andy to see if he wanted to hang out. Unfortunately Andy had last minute plans for brunch with his family and couldn’t attend to Jim’s whims. Karen and Josh were at work. Larissa was also in the city for her gala, but she was busy and he’d see her tomorrow anyway. He could go home early and bring everyone their gifts. He accomplished what he wanted to do in New York anyway, he might as well go home.

 

Jim plopped back down in bed. He wasn’t kidding when he told Dwight he was defective. Broken emotions, broken mental state, broken family, and now broken memories. He had to laugh. He thought he should end it all, there was absolutely no coming back from this. He had an apparently shitty life thus far, he couldn’t see it getting any better. Maybe he could start over in his next life and hopefully have sane parents and nice life circumstances.

 

He read the rest of the messages on his phone. His parents were still blowing his phone up. He entertained himself by reading the last few from his mother.

 

**Mom:** _ I heard you had a hard time at USB yesterday. I’m sorry to hear that sweetie. That manager has been dealt with. _

 

**Mom:** _ What did you need $10,000 for? You know you can’t withdraw that much money from an ATM right? Lol. Were you planning on shopping? I see you’re in New York. _

 

**Mom:** _ Ah, $37,000? What did you buy? You were never one for extravagance. _

 

**Mom:** _ I shop a lot when I’m stressed too. Please come home baby, we can talk about it. _

 

Jim scoffed. He had nothing to say to his mother. This was all her fault! He hated her and wished she was dead, more so than he wished it for himself. The way he saw it his parents were awful human beings who ruined his life with their awfulness. They didn’t deserve him, who gave them unconditional love even when they treated him like shit! He didn’t deserve them either, he had no control over the type of people he’d be born to. He had to keep himself from crying like a loon.

 

He had a few messages from a number he didn’t recognize.

 

**Unknown:** _ Hello. I got in okay. Thank you for the cab last night. _

 

**Unknown:** _ Jim, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that. That should have been a discussion you had with your parents. _

 

**Unknown:** _ Can we talk?  _

 

**Unknown:** _ Please text me back when you get the chance. You should talk to someone about this before you do something drastic. _

 

It was Jessica. He had nothing to say to her either. She was complacent in his...reprogramming, and didn’t help him in any way an actual psychologist should. Money and a career advancement meant more to her than his own livelihood. She was only upset that she was caught. He thought about reporting her to the American Psychological Association to take her license away once and for all, but what did it matter? Her life was already a wreck, it seemed that karma had gotten to her. He texted her back just to be petty.

 

**Jim:** _ Oh, fuck you Jessica! I never want to hear from you again! _

 

He blocked her from replying and went back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Jim sat outside the door of Roy’s apartment, waiting for him to get home. On the drive home all of his sour feelings turned into unbridled energy and he currently had no outlet for it. Roy was a lot, and occasionally came off as super creepy, but he was fun and Jim still liked him. He hoped Roy could help him get his feelings sorted.

 

Roy got home thirty minutes later. He looked down at Jim in shock.

 

“You’re here early,” remarked Jim. 

 

“Yeah, we finished early. What are you doing here, what happened to New York?”

 

“I finished early too. Can I come in? I brought gifts.” Roy opened the door before helping Jim up. Jim sat the gifts on the kitchen counter before turning back to Roy. 

 

“Your haircut looks good, Halpert. You look smoking hot, but you always are.”

 

“Thanks! Guess what I got you,” Jim said with a smile.

 

“A keychain?”

 

“No.”

 

“A Statue of Liberty bottle opener? I’ve always wanted one of those.”

 

“Nope.” Roy looked faux thoughtful. 

 

“Is it sex? That’s always a welcomed gift too.” Jim smiled.

 

“Maybe.” He pulled the box from behind his back and handed it to Roy. He watched for his reaction.

 

“Gucci? Really Jim? This is nice but I can’t accept it, it’s too much.” Jim frowned.

 

“So? I wanted to buy it for you, just take it.”

 

“I’m happy you thought of me, I kinda figured you’d still be mad at me. But this is expensive, you shouldn’t have spent your money this way. Weren’t you planning on moving?”

 

“I am. It’s not like I spent  _ my _ money on it….” Roy sighed and opened the box. Inside was a lot of silver, ormentated jewelry and a cologne. He had to admit the gifts were nice, it’d make him look like a rugged yet rich Hells Angel. He slipped on a necklace, a bracelet, and three rings that spelt out ‘Roy’. Jim came over and helped him put on the watch; they left the cuff links and cologne in the box. “There, now you look so hot,” said Jim. He leaned in and kissed Roy on the lips.

 

“Hmm, I always look hot, expensive gifts or not. What are you up to now?”

 

“Your other gift.” Jim pressed Roy against the counter behind him and grinded his hips into Roy’s. 

 

“Which is…?”

 

“Sex. You just said it yourself, sex is always a welcomed gift.” Roy hummed in response and changed their positions so that Jim was now the one being pinned to the counter. He rolled his hips against Roy, eliciting a moan from the older man.

 

“You weren’t like this the first time,” Roy stated dryly.

 

“Well, that was my first time, so….”

 

“You’ve gotten a lot more confident. Have you been doing this with someone else?” Jim rolled his eyes but didn’t answer; they both knew the answer. Instead Jim kissed Roy again. 

 

“Shouldn’t we be heading to your room?” Roy grabbed Jim’s hands and pulled him after him. Roy looked deep into Jim’s hazel eyes, admiring the man he was in love with. However, nothing was there. No emotion, no feeling, no anything. Jim’s eyes looked clouded over and empty at once, like he was looking at Roy and looking past him at the same time. He briefly wondered if he should even continue the slow trek to his bedroom but decided push forward. Jim was the one to propositioned him, and he’d say no if he didn’t want this. Still, the sight before him was disconcerting. If he didn’t know better he’d think Jim hated him. “What are you looking at,” Jim asked.

 

“You. Are you alright?”

 

“I feeling a bit jittery, maybe I should avoid coffee for a while. Why do you ask?”

 

“Are you up for this? We don’t have to have sex, no pressure….”

 

“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t want to. Do  _ you  _ not want to have sex with  _ me _ ,” Jim asked coyly. “I thought you were always up for sex with me.”

 

“I am! I’m just making sure I have consent is all!” Jim pushed Roy into his bedroom before moving to take off Roy’s t-shirt.

 

“Is this enough consent for you,” asked Jim, unbuckling Roy’s belt. His eyes were still dull and lifeless even though his voice sound animated. Roy wasn’t sure if Jim was having an episode, or if his eyes were just clouded over with lust. Was that a thing that actually happened, and not just a saying? Roy hoped so.

 

Jim dropped to his knees and pulled down Roy’s pants and underwear. He pulled Roy’s dick out and began sucking it.

 

“Ughh, you’re getting right to it huh,” groaned Roy. Jim hummed around Roy’s dick. Roy grabbed the back of Jim’s head and shoved his dick down Jim’s throat as far as it would go. Jim for his part continued to take it, to Roy’s amazement. “You don’t have a gag reflex, do you? You were born to suck cock! And to think, I was the first cock you’ve ever had! You’re such a slut, Jim. That’s how I know we’re destined to be together. I’ll always keep you satisfied, you little freak.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes at Roy’s inane dirty talk, but took no offense to it. If he wanted to get off then he needed to get Roy off. They’d talk about his language later…

 

Jim pulled off of Roy’s dick and stood up. He giggled at Roy’s shocked expression. “Was it something I said, aren’t you gonna finish?”

 

“I think I’m being very kind right now by not finishing you off in my mouth. You’d go limp and not be able to get it back up, old man. That’s no fun for me.”

 

“Ouch. I’m not that much older than you. I’m younger than Dwight and you have no problem sleeping with him.”

 

“Hmmm, well I care more about myself than you right now, so….”

 

“Wow,” Roy said laughing. He allowed Jim to push him down on him bed and straddle his hips. He reached into his nightstand to find his lube. He moved to prepare Jim. He coated his fingers and began working him, looking for any signs of discomfort. Jim’s eyes were still blank and disinterested, giving away nothing of his current feelings. “Are you alright, princess,” Roy asked.

 

“Yeah! I wish you’d go faster,” Jim replied with his charming smile. Roy wasn’t sure what to make of Jim’s behavior but he obliged. Once he thought Jim was adequately prepared he began pushing into him. Jim did his best to take him and adjust the intrusion.

 

“Ride me,” said Roy, propping himself up on his pillows. Jim did as told and began lifting himself off of Roy’s lap and back on to it. Roy grabbed Jim’s hips to steady him and thrusted upwards to meet him halfway. “Are you enjoying this baby,” Roy asked. Jim didn’t say anything. He was shaking, and not in a way that said he was deriving pleasure from what they were doing. He looked scared, and Roy really began to reassess his decision to have sex with him in his current state. Jim leaned over, and Roy figured he was shifting his weight for a hug, or even to climb off of him.

 

Jim bent down and bit Roy on the neck. Hard.

 

Roy let out a yelp and began pushing Jim off of him once it became apparent that the man had no intention of letting his neck go on his own. 

 

“What the fuck, Jim?” Roy pulled out of him before finally dislodging Jim’s mouth from his throat and rolling from underneath him. Jim collapsed on the bed beside him and stayed deathly still.  _ Fuck!  _ thought Roy. He  _ knew _ Jim looked off, and he still tried sleeping with him. It was his own damn fault that Jim broke down and tried ripping his throat out. He looked over at Jim, who was still staring him with dead eyes. He tried shaking him but got no response. He checked his neck. There was no blood but Jim had broken the skin.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck _ !

 

Roy watched Jim for what felt like an eternity before the younger man finally stirred. He looked deeply disturbed when he finally came to, but his eyes were still blank. Roy pulled Jim into hug to comfort him.

 

“Are you okay? You scared me there, princess.” Jim sniffled.

 

“I had a weird dream, but I’ll be okay. Weren’t we…,”

 

“We were, but you fell asleep. It’s alright though, you were clearly tired,” Roy lied. Jim looked over at Roy and saw the red mark from where he bit him.

 

“What happened to your neck!?”

 

“It was a dog?”

 

“Really?”

 

“...no.” Jim sat in Roy’s lap and examined the mark.

 

“Roy, did I do this,” Jim asked, eyes welling with tears. Roy wiped at Jim’s eyes and rubbed his back.

 

“Yeah. You were having a nightmare and it just happened,” Roy lied again. He was stretching the truth, but it sounded better than saying Jim attacked him during their dubiously consensual sex.

 

“I’m so sorry!” Jim jumped off of Roy’s lap and ran to the bathroom before closing the door behind him. Roy thought Jim was locking himself away with shame and moved to follow him but the door flew back open. “Roy, don’t you have a first aid kit? We need to clean your wound!”

 

“I don’t. We can just rinse it off with water.” Jim shook his head.

 

“No, get dressed. We’ll walk to the Walgreens down the street so I can disinfect it.” Jim started pulling his clothes back on before tossing Roy his underwear and pants. Roy sighed and got dressed. He found his keys and ushered Jim out of his apartment. 

 

The two of them held hands as they started the four block walk to the Walgreens near Roy’s house. 

 

“How are you feeling,” Jim asked Roy worriedly. “I don’t want you contracting sepsis or anything.”

 

“Do  _ you _ have sepsis? That’s way more concerning than me getting bit.”

 

“No, I don’t. I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry! I don’t know why I did that!” Roy squeezed Jim’s hand.

 

“It’s fine, you can’t help you had a bad dream. What was it about?” Jim didn’t say anything so Roy redirected the conversation. “So, I was your first time  _ ever _ huh? I find that hard to believe.” Jim scoffed.

 

“Don’t get a big head Roy, I’ve had sex before.”

 

“But not with men?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Have you had a boyfriend before?”

 

“Nope. It  _ could  _ be you though, if you stop being weird.” Roy wasn’t sure what to think. He had gotten the impression that Jonah perhaps dated Jim in the past, but Jim was saying otherwise. But then he never mentioned his sister either...

 

When they entered Jim headed straight to the first aid materials and grabbed hand sanitizer, neosporin, and bandages. Jim flagged Roy over and ripped open the neosporin box. He sanitized his hands before putting neosporin on Roy’s neck and rubbing it in. Roy relaxed under Jim’s touch. Being bit on the neck hard sucked but having Jim coddle him in public did not. Jim kissed the area around the bite, tickling his nose against Roy stubble. Roy looked around and saw other customers watching them with varying looks of shock and disgust on their faces. Yeah, Roy was definitely enjoying this.

 

Jim opened a pack of bandages and put one on top of the bite. A sales associate walked over to Jim and Roy. 

 

“Sir, you have to pay for those,” she said annoyed. Jim whipped around so fast that the sales associate stumbled back with a gasp.

“No fucking shit! I’m going to, God,” he snapped. 

 

“There’s no reason to talk to me that way,” she replied.

 

“There’s absolutely no reason for you to be talking to me. Go back to work.” The sales associate scurried away from him, offended by his behavior. Roy watched the scene amused. 

 

“She was just doing her job,” he said. As cute as he was being—at least to  _ him _ —Roy could tell Jim was having an episode. He should have realized earlier that Jim wasn’t in sound mind. He had to do something before Jim went off on another Walgreens employee.

 

“She’s stupid if she thought I wasn’t going to pay for our shit,” mumbled Jim. Roy leaned in close to Jim’s ear.

 

“I dare you not to. Let’s run out.”

 

“That’s rude and gross, Roy. It comes from the employees’ paychecks too.”

 

“Live a little, princess. I can tell you’ve never done anything truly wild before.”

 

“I have so! Like some of my pranks on Dwight have been pretty crazy. And mean, and stealing from mean too.” Roy moved to put the neosporin and bandages back on the shelf before sticking the hand sanitizer in Jim’s back pocket. He kissed Jim on the lips before yanking him out of the store. They ran for two blocks before Roy led him down a residential street. They fell on top of each other in a snowbank and laid there catching their breath. 

 

“Wasn’t that fun,” asked Roy.

 

“It was interesting...you’re not gonna be allowed back to that Walgreens ever again,” replied Jim with a smile. His eyes were still dull but he was no longer in a frantic mood; it was good enough for Roy.

 

“I’m more of a CVS man myself, so nothing of value was lost. Let’s go home and dry you off.” Roy stood up and helped Jim out of the snow. He took Jim’s hand in his and started the trek back home. 

 

“So fess up,” said Roy. “How was New York? What did you do?”

 

“I saw Andy and people I worked with in Stamford! That was nice. But…the rest of the trip was not great,” Jim admitted. Roy figured as much, something would had to have set him off. Roy hugged him.

 

“Oh? What happened?”

 

“I tried going to a bank to withdraw money and the manager stopped me and called the cops on me. After that I had an emotionally charged breakdown and bought close to forty thousand dollars worth of shit. And the production crew was there following me. Then I—,” Jim stopped talking and looked at Roy. “Roy, I have a question for you.”

 

Roy watched Jim with concern. “Yeah, shoot.”

 

“Do you think I’m bad enough that I should go to a psych ward? I’m starting to think I should with the remaining week I have off.”

 

“Whoa! No, I don’t! Why would you think you’d need to go to a facility?”

 

“I’m crazy, Roy. I can’t make it a day without breaking down. It’s wearing me down even more mentally. I’m not getting any better. My emotions are out of whack. I attacked you today and attacked Brian two weeks ago and have been a pain in the ass to so many people. I’m a danger to myself and others around me. My psychologist thinks I should do it, as does Dwight. I’m starting to understand why everyone hates me, I hate myself.”

 

“Nobody hates you Jim. I love you, I couldn’t imagine why anyone else wouldn’t.”

 

“I’m awful and nuts,” Jim interjected.

 

“No, you’re not. You’re not so bad that you need to go to a psych ward. Your psych doesn’t know you that well, that was only your second appointment. How could she make that call? And Dwight’s a fucking weirdo, I’d take anything he says with a grain of salt. Seriously, what does he know? You’re having a hard time and haven’t given yourself the opportunity to relax. Your parents haven’t been helping with how overbearing they’ve been either. It takes a while for medication to work too, you’ve only been taking it for a week. You need to give yourself a break.”

 

“A break,” Jim asked tiredly. “But I’ve been taking a break for two weeks. I can’t take any more of a break, it’s not like I can get away from myself. I don’t know what else to do, I can’t continue on like this. Maybe my break can be at the loony bin.”

 

“No sweetie, it doesn’t have to be. How about this, let’s get away. Just the two of us. I’ll take off work next week and we can go somewhere when you get back from your ski trip. How does Florida sound? We can go to Miami. I have so many vacation days to use, we could have a great time.”

 

“It wouldn’t be fair to Dwight if I ran away with you for a week,” Jim said.

 

“Well, you’re living with him now so it’s even. Besides, we nullified that contract, you’re not obligated to give either of us a date just because the other one has it. It’s not even a date, it’s a vacation for your health.”

 

“Florida,” said Jim said as if he were tasting the word. “I’ve ever been there before.”

 

“Really? I figured you would have.”

 

“No. Can we go to Disney World instead of Miami? Or Universal Studios? I’m not into clubbing or anything and I’ve always wanted to go.” Roy smiled.

 

“Yeah babe. That’s even better. That way you can meet all of the other princesses and see how they don’t measure up to you.” Jim laughed.

 

“I’d really like that…okay. I’m down, let’s do it!”

 

“Alrighty then. Take a shower when we get upstairs and I’ll book everything. We’ll have a great time.”

 

They entered Roy’s apartment where Jim began stripping himself of his wet clothes. He briefly stopped to check his phone and respond to a few texts Dwight sent him. He put his phone on the nightstand before gathering his and Roy’s wet clothes, along with the worn clothes in his duffle bag, and washing them. He started the shower. 

 

“Hey, do you wanna take a shower with me,” Jim called over the running water of both the shower and washing machine.

 

“I’ll sit this one out and get started on trip planning and dinner.” Jim shrugged and got into the shower.

 

Roy walked into his bedroom to grab his laptop off of his nightstand. What Jim told him had hurt his heart. He was extremely worried about what would happen if Jim went off without him again and had another episode. They did seem to be happening more frequently. Roy wouldn’t be able to watch him and help him then, and it made him nervous. The world was cruel, and he didn’t want anyone taking advantage of Jim when he wasn’t in a good frame of mind. Roy sighed. He also hated how people were poisoning Jim’s mind with the idea that he was too sick to be in public. He didn’t need to be locked away in an asylum, he just needed someone who loved, understood, and supported him. That obviously wasn’t his parents, or his psychologist, or Dwight, who claimed to be in love with him. That just left him.

 

Roy saw Jim’s iPhone laying on top of his laptop. The phone was still unlocked from texting Dwight. He tried not to read their conversation but…

 

**Dwight:** _ Weren’t you supposed to be back today? _

 

**Jim:** _ i am but i stopped at roys place! ill see you tomorrow morning before work tho! _

 

**Jim:** _ i have a surprise for you! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ _

 

**Dwight:** _ I’m looking forward to it. We can talk about your trips when you get here. _

 

**Dwight:** _ P.S: Don’t sleep with Anderson, he’s a disgusting predator. Keep your guard up. _

 

Roy rolled his eyes and set Jim’s phone back down. However, before locking the phone he had a thought. He pulled his iPhone out too. He navigated to Find My Friends on both of them. He didn’t want to creep on Jim, he really didn’t, especially after Jim almost left him for it, but.

 

He needed to protect Jim. What if something bad happened to him and he needed to find him? What if Jim walked off and then had an episode? Roy needed to know where he was at all times. So he added Jim on Find My Friends with the hope that Jim would always have his phone with him. He did the same with his phone and then double tapped Jim’s home button and swiped up on the app to make it disappear.

 

Roy prayed that a) Jim wouldn’t notice that Roy added himself on Find My Friends and b) that he’d never have to actually use it. He grabbed his laptop and left out clothes for Jim to put on when he finished his shower.

 

Roy hoped he was making the right decision.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus again! I will try to have the next chapter out in two weeks tops!
> 
> I think Roy is my favorite character to write. He makes absolutely no sense but does at the same time. He's just ridiculous.
> 
> Here are links to the gifts I envisioned Jim buying during his breakdown
> 
> Andy:  
> Tie 1:https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/c-est-le-pompon-twillbi-tie-H626090Tv06/  
> Tie 2: https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/remise-a-niveau-tie-H646080Tv16/  
> Tie 3: https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/faconnee-h-24-tie-H030190Tv17/
> 
> Josh:  
> Cologne: https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/eau-d-orange-verte-eau-de-cologne-V38294/
> 
> Karen:   
> Earrings: https://us.burberry.com/ruthenium-tone-gold-plated-link-drop-earrings-p80077331
> 
> Roy:  
> Ring 1: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/silver-jewelry/silver-rings/r-letter-ring-in-silver-p-554257J84000811?position=24&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Silver-Jewelry/Silver-Jewelry-For-Men  
> Ring 2: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/silver-jewelry/silver-rings/o-letter-ring-in-silver-p-554253J84000811?position=27&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Silver-Jewelry/Silver-Jewelry-For-Men  
> Ring 3: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/silver-jewelry/silver-rings/y-letter-ring-in-silver-p-554268J84000811?position=17&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Silver-Jewelry/Silver-Jewelry-For-Men  
> Necklace: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/silver-jewelry/silver-jewelry-for-women/anger-forest-wolf-head-necklace-p-524122J84000811?position=63&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Silver-Jewelry/Silver-Jewelry-For-Women  
> Bracelet: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/silver-jewelry/silver-bracelets/bracelet-in-silver-with-feline-head-p-433575J84000811?position=74&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Silver-Jewelry/Silver-Bracelets  
> Watch: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/watches/watches-for-men/gucci-dive-watch-45mm-p-559810I16001402?position=6&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Watches/Watches-For-Men  
> Cufflinks: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/jewelry-watches/silver-jewelry/silver-jewelry-for-men/cufflinks-with-square-g-in-silver-p-552765J84000811?position=43&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Jewelry-Watches/Silver-Jewelry/Silver-Jewelry-For-Men  
> Cologne: https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/fragrances/fragrances-for-men/gucci-guilty/gucci-guilty-oud-90ml-eau-de-parfum-p-536583999990099?position=11&listName=ProductGrid&categoryPath=Fragrances/Fragrances-for-Men/Gucci-Guilty


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets his answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not been beta read. If you see any mistakes please let me know.

 

Jim kept his promise and went to Dwight’s place after waking up. Since the farmer and his cousin were still asleep Jim began making them breakfast. Once done he began placing the contents of Dwight’s old leather into the new old he bought. He snuck into Dwight’s room to find clothes for him to iron. When he did he was met with a hunting knife at his throat.

 

“Coward, you’ve picked the wrong beet farmer to mess with!”

 

“Dwight! What are you doing?” 

 

Dwight lowered the knife. “Jesus, Jim! Why are you sneaking around like that? I could have gutted you!”

 

“I didn’t want to wake you, I was just getting your clothes ready for work. I’m sorry!” Dwight sighed and hugged Jim.

 

“It’s fine. You shouldn’t sneak around here, I have knives hidden in every crevice of this farmhouse. You couldn’t even imagine some of the places where I have knives hidden!”

 

“I don’t want to, so...don’t tell me.”

 

“You lose by the way.”

 

“Huh, what did I lose,” Jim asked.

 

“The game. You said “I’m sorry” just now. You weren’t supposed to apologize for things that weren’t your fault.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “In that case you lost before I did! You said “you’ve picked the wrong beet farmer to mess with!” You can’t say beets, remember?” Dwight laughed.

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. We both lose.” Dwight pulled Jim over to the bed and pulled him down on top of him. “What were you doing with Anderson yesterday?”

 

“Oh, you know...stuff.”

 

“Stuff?”

 

“Yeah, stuff. You jealous,” Jim joked. Dwight smirked up at him.

 

“A bit. Is there any way I can get any of this “stuff”?”

 

“Yeah, depends on what you’re in the market for. Since you should be getting ready for work I don’t think I can offer you able of the good stuff though. Maybe a handjob, or a blowjob.”

 

“Hmm, both of those sound nice….” Dwight observed Jim’s face. He looked a bit tired but happy. His eyes however looked hazy, like at the arcade. He was having an episode, it was apparent. Dwight sat back up. “I’m gonna have to turn down your offer, Jim.”

 

“What, why?”

 

“You appear to be having an episode. I don’t want to take advantage of you in this state.”

 

Jim was furious. “I’m fine, Dwight!”

 

“You don’t look it,” he countered.

 

“Why does it matter if I look “off” or not? I’m giving you my consent. Just take the damn blow job!”

 

Dwight shook his head. Just because Jim gave his consent now didn’t make it right for Dwight to sleep with him. It were possible that he would come to regret the experience once he was in a better frame of mind. He’d much rather Jim be upset with him now than potentially rape him. “Sorry Halpert. Maybe next time.” Jim huffed in response.

 

“Fuck off asshole.” Jim rolled over to the opposite of the bed and buried his face into a pillow. Dwight tried patting his head but Jim knocked his hand away. Dwight attempted it again only for Jim to respond in the same manner. After two more attempts Dwight decided to attack Jim’s stomach by tickling him. He didn’t get the exact reaction he wanted from Jim, it seemed he wasn’t ticklish, but he seemed amused all the same.

 

“If this is your way of making me feel better then it’s not working,” Jim said with a smile. Dwight leaned over to kiss his forehead. 

 

“Oh, I think it is. Come have breakfast with me.”

 

“I ate with Roy this morning, sorry. But I made breakfast for you and Mose. It should still be hot.” Dwight didn’t believe Jim really ate with Roy. In fact, he’d bet money Jim told Roy he’d eat with Dwight later. 

 

“Let me smell your breath then.” Dwight put his fingers in the corners of Jim’s mouth to pry his teeth apart. Jim looked up at him in disgust before batting at Dwight’s hands to no avail.

 

“This is so fucking weird Dwight, you’re weird,” he slurred out behind closed teeth.

 

“I’d smell food on your breath if you had really eaten. Let me at it.”

 

“I brushed my teeth, how could you smell anything?”

 

“We Schrutes have a superior sense of smell, Jim, if you’ve eaten anything in the last twenty four hours I’d smell it on your breath.” Jim rolled his eyes and let out a huff on Dwight’s face. Dwight grabbed Jim’s wrists and pulled him up. Jim’s breath smelled only of mint from toothpaste and mouthwash, as he suspected. “If you keep this up then I’ll start to assume you have an eating disorder.”

 

“I just don’t see the point in eating if I’m not hungry….”

 

The pair sat at Dwight’s kitchen table, Dwight eating the breakfast Jim made and Jim a few of the applesauce pouches and a piece of bread. 

 

“How was New York,” Dwight asked between bites.

 

“It went about as well as everything else in my life right now. I saw the production staff there, it put a damper on an already shitty day.”

 

“They probably wanted an update on your former coworkers, I wouldn’t think too much of it. What happened before that?”

 

Jim omitted the incident at the bank and the ensuing breakdown. Instead he said, “I got super stressed out by traffic, everyone in the city are such bad drivers. It wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be I guess, it was just tense. Seeing Brian and co didn’t make me feel any better.” Dwight sympathetically grabbed Jim’s hand from across the table. Jim felt bad for lying to Dwight, but he was also relieved that he was still able to. He decided to change the subject before he got in too deep. “How many vacation days do you have Dwight?”

 

Dwight scoffed. “All of them. Vacations are for the weak, infirm, and lazy. I haven’t taken a vacation in the decade plus I’ve worked at Dunder Mifflin, and I won’t start now.”

 

“That’s not healthy at all, Dwight. You get vacation days for a reason. I guess since you’ve never taken a vacation you wouldn’t want to take one with me?”

 

“What are you thinking, Halpert? You want to use your last week off to go somewhere?”

 

“The week after next; I’m thinking we can go camping.”

 

“Are you sure you want to go camping? It’s still cold out. Of course I would be fine with that, but you’re a rookie and your ass would freeze off.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “I’ve been camping before Dwight, jeez. We wouldn’t go here though. I was thinking of going to Yosemite. We could camp there for two or three days, and then head south?”

 

“To Mexico?”

 

“No, I was thinking maybe SoCal, like L.A, Venice Beach. Maybe California Adventure? But Mexico could be fun too.”

 

Dwight considered it. It’d be fun to run away with Jim for a couple of days. It’d be good for him to not be near his parents, or have to deal with work related stress. And maybe a vacation would do Dwight some good. 

 

“Okay,” he said. “That sounds like it’d be fun. So camping and Yosemite and then to an amusement park? Anderson isn’t invited I hope?”

 

“No, I’m, uh, I’m going to Florida with him next week,” Jim admitted sheepishly. 

 

“Didn’t take you as a Miami person, Halpert.”

 

“I’m not! We’re going to Disney World! I like amusement parks I guess….Don’t worry about anything, I’ll plan our trip.”

 

“Do you think you’ll be able to go? Get time off I mean? You’re coming off of a three week leave, do you think you’ll be able to use your days so soon,” Dwight asked skeptically.

 

“Oh no, I’m quitting, remember,” Jim said with a smile. “I don’t need to take vacation days because I won’t be working there. I can pretty much do what I want because I have no obligations! At least not until I find another job.”

 

Dwight sighed. He couldn’t force Jim to continue working at Dunder Mifflin, especially when it made him so uncomfortable. Not being apart of the documentary would surely do his health wonders too…. “What’s your plan then? Teaching?”

 

“Hopefully. If not that then anything’s fine.” Dwight hummed in response and the two continued to eat in silence. Once finished Jim followed Dwight back upstairs and into his bedroom. He gathered clothes for Dwight to wear and set off to iron them. 

 

“You don’t have to so that you know,” Dwight called from inside the bathroom. 

 

“I want to. You’re letting me stay here for free, the least I can do is help out.”

 

“Don’t be mistaken Halpert, you are  _ not  _ staying here for free. You’re putting out, remember?”

 

“I tried that earlier,  _ remember _ ? If I can’t put out then I can iron.” Dwight didn’t offer a rebuttal so Jim took that as his cue to leave. He went downstairs to Dwight’s ironing board and began ironing. Once done he moved back upstairs with Dwight’s clothes, new bag, and Pam’s gifts. He set the clothes and bag down on the end of Dwight’s bed and began his search for a pen. He wanted to write Pam a small thank you note in the front of the notebook he had gotten her. And that’s how Dwight found Jim after his shower, writing in an ultra feminine notebook.

 

“Is that yours,” Dwight asked skeptically.

 

“No. It’s for Pam. Do you think you can pass along this bag for me? It’s a gift.” Dwight looked in the bag and took stock of the purse and jewelry. 

 

“Did you buy this in New York,” he asked. Kate Spade the items read. They looked cute enough, he was sure Pam would like it.

 

“Yeah. Don’t be jealous though, I got you something too.” Jim reached over and picked up Dwight’s new bag. He opened it and pulled the drone out and handed both to Dwight. 

 

“A new briefcase and a drone? These are nice Jim, how much were they?” Jim cringed. He didn’t want Dwight to know he spent more than they made in a month on his gifts.

 

“They weren’t too much! Don’t worry about it, I saw them and thought of you.” Jim gave Dwight a tight smile as he watched the older man’s reaction. He couldn’t read him. “Do you like them,” he added self consciously.

 

“Of course I do, I’d tell you if I didn't. I’ve needed a new leather briefcase for a while now. You saved me a lot of work in finding one. What brand is this?”

 

“It’s unimportant,” Jim said quickly. He didn’t need Dwight trying to look up the price. “I can’t remember. Look, aren’t you going to be late for work?” Dwight watched him suspiciously.

 

“Yeah, I guess I am. You’re leaving soon yourself, right?”

 

“Yeah, maybe in the next hour. I wanna take a nap.” Jim let out an exaggerated yawn to punctuate his point. “I’m gonna let you go then. Don’t use the drone until I get back Sunday. I wanna test it out with you!”

 

Dwight leaned over and kissed Jim on the lips. “I’ll see you soon then,” he said. “Stay safe. And let me know if anything happens, I’ll come find you if so.”

 

That’s sweet of you, but I’ll be okay Dwight. It’s just my brother and sister.” With that Dwight left the house leaving Jim alone. He sighed and plopped down on the couch, not wanting to walk back upstairs to nap.

 

* * *

 

Dwight stopped by reception on the way to his seat. “Pam, Jim wanted me to give this to you.” He moved behind the desk to hand her the Kate Spade bag. She looked at it in shock.

 

“Holy crap! Why would he buy this,” she whisper-shouted. She rifled through the shopping bag and found a handbag, bracelets, a necklace, and a notebook. She pulled the notebook out while putting the bag underneath the desk. She opened the notebook and found a note from Jim on the inside cover.

 

_ Pam, _

 

_ Thank you for everything. I understand why you’d be mad at me after I came back. After all, I did skip town on you only to befriend (and then sleep with) your ex once I got back. I’m a pretty shitty person. However you still accepted me despite all of my flaws and faults. I’m can’t believe you’d want to be my friend, but I’m glad you are. Thank you for everything. _

 

_ Love, _

 

_ Jim _

 

“This is nice, but I can’t accept it, it’s too expensive,” Pam said.

 

“Expensive? Isn’t Kate Spade the kiddie store at the Viewmont Mall? With the clothes for the floozies?”

 

Pam watched him confused. Then it dawn on her what Dwight was talking about. She sighed, she had been working with him for far too long. “No, I think you’re thinking of Forever 21. Kate Spade makes nice purses for like three hundred dollars or more. And jewelry too. It’s really nice but Jim didn’t need to buy this for. I didn’t even do anything, I’ve been ignoring him since he got back. I don’t deserve a reward for doing the bare minimum as a friend.”

 

Dwight grunted and moved to his seat. He looked at the leather briefcase Jim had given him. It had his initials all over it in gold and white lettering. He assumed the bag was at most three hundred and the drone another two hundred, but Pam was saying differently. Had Jim really spent a lot of money on these gifts? He didn’t have to. He didn’t want Jim thinking he could spend his problems away, or think he needed to buy affection. Dwight would talk to him about it when he got back.

 

Dwight kept to himself most morning, not entertaining the jeers from Stanley and Phyllis. He headed to the copier to make contracts when he heard Oscar, Kevin, and Angela talking.

 

“It’s just a bit suspicious is all,” said Oscar defensively.

 

“It’s not our business, who cares,” replied Angela tersely.

 

“Technically it is, since you’re the one who gave him the final kick out.” Angela faltered at Oscar’s words but continued to work. Dwight stepped in.

 

“What are you talking about,” he demanded. Kevin giggled at him.

 

“They’re arguing about whether or not Jim’s coming back. Me and Angela think he will but Oscar doesn’t.” Dwight’s eyebrows skyrocketed to his hairline. 

 

“Why wouldn’t he come back,” he asked Oscar. Jim  _ did  _ convey his intention of not coming back to Dunder Mifflin to him, but how did Oscar come to that conclusion? He doubted Jim was sharing his insecurities with him. 

 

Oscar shrugged. “I think it’s weird in general. He obviously hates working here, his behavior the past few months made that very obvious. Angela verbally attacking him probably gave him a nice out in terms of leaving. I don’t think his father is sick either, it’s just an excuse for why he’s gone. I think Michael was right about him taking it for his mental health.”

 

“Oh, please,” said Angela. “There’s nothing wrong with Jim. If he said his dad is sick then his dad is sick. Now leave me out of it.” Oscar turned his attention to Dwight.

 

“You must be happy at least? You didn’t like Jim and now he’s gone.”

 

“Me not liking him is debatable.”

 

“But you agree Jim’s probably not coming back right? It’s a shame, he was one of

The few reasonable people here. I hope he’s doing well at least, I always knew Michael would eventually drive one of us insane.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with Jim, his dad just  _ died, _ ” Dwight said before he could realize his error. Kevin and Oscar gasped, sad to about Jim’s father’s health taking a turn for the worst. Angela just shook her head and gave Dwight a dirty look. 

 

“Oh my god! I feel like an asshole now,” bemoaned Oscar.

 

“Well...yeah. So don’t mention it to Jim when he enviably comes back. Ever. At all. He’d be very saddened to be reminded of it.” Dwight got his copies and hustled back to his desk, hoping that was the end of his problems.

 

It wasn’t.

 

At lunchtime Roy came up looking like a tacky gangster. Dwight groaned, the ban Michael put on the warehouse staff didn’t last long. Roy stood next to Dwight’s desk, flashing all of his gaudy jewelry everywhere. “You like,” he asked snidely.

 

“You look stupid Anderson. Where did you even find such ridiculous effects?”

 

“What can I say? My favorite person gave them to me.” Phyllis groaned behind Dwight. “I’m sure he got you nothing.”

 

Dwight plopped his briefcase onto his desk. “A nice, sturdy leather briefcase is much more useful than your dumb trinkets.”

 

“These aren’t trinkets, they’re Gucci. He took the time out to pick out something I’d like while getting you a regular old bag. It’s obvious that he likes me way more than you.”

 

Oscar chose that moment to approach Dwight. He watched the two of them suspiciously. “You know Dwight, I tried looking in local papers for an obituary for Jim’s father but found nothing. Did they publish one? It seems a bit odd that they didn’t. Does he have a different last name than his father?” Both Roy and Phyllis looked at Dwight strangely. Oscar ignored it and instead focused on Dwight’s briefcase. “Whoa, was your commission so good that you could afford a Goyard bag? I should move to sales if that’s the case,” Oscar joked.

 

“What’s a Goyard,” Dwight asked. Oscar blanched.

 

“Your bag, it’s a Goyard bag. Those are extremely expensive. Your model probably costs about four thousand dollars before customization. Didn’t you buy it, how could you not know? You can’t even get them online, you’d have to go to the store and get it in person.”

 

“Uhhh…,” said Dwight. Four thousand dollars for a bag? Designer goods for Roy and Pam? What the hell was Jim thinking?

 

“So who gave it to you? They must really like you,” asked Oscar coyly. 

 

“It was a gift...from my sister,” Dwight said uncertainty.

 

“Oh? You have a sister? How come you never mention her?”

 

“She works as a therapist in New York. She makes good money. Maybe she thought I deserved it?” It wasn’t a lie, and Dwight hoped Oscar would stop prying and accept that answer. Instead Oscar shifted his attention to Roy’s jewelry.

 

“And I assume you have a well off sister in New York too, Roy?”

 

“I’m fucking Dwight’s sister,” was the crude reply. Oscar rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s interesting because you have expensive jewelry, Dwight has an expensive bag, and Jim had an expensive car. I was joking last time but seriously, are the three of you running drugs out of the warehouse? Where is this stuff coming from?”

 

“My sister,” Dwight said forcefully at the same time Roy said “Dwight’s sister.”

 

Michael stepped out of his office to survey the noise. His eyes landed on Roy’s shiny, cool jewelry. He gasped at them.

 

“That’s Gucci,” he shouted excitedly. “I’ve been wanting to get myself enough rings to spell out “Michael”, or maybe “Best Boss”. Those are close to five hundred dollars a ring though. Do you make enough in the warehouse to afford them? Because I don’t and you shouldn’t be making more than me hahaha!” Michael then noticed Dwight’s briefcase. “This looks costly too! Where’d you get it?” Michael looked between Roy and Dwight before finally clueing in. “Ahhh, did your boo thang buy you both this? Did Jim get me anything?”

 

“Huh,” asked Oscar, confused by Michael non sequitur. Phyllis shot Michael a dirty look that he didn’t pick up on.

 

“Yes, they are running drugs out of the warehouse,” said Pam nervously. “You caught us, I guess that’s the end of that.”

 

“ _ Jim _ bought this,” asked Oscar incredulously. “With what money? I don’t think he’s making enough for any of this! And “boo thang”? What are you talking about Michael?”

 

Everyone ignored Oscar. Michael’s face fell in a dramatic fashion, misplaced hurt evident on his face. “Did Jim bring me anything,” he asked again. Receiving no response Michael then continued. “I guess he only buys gifts for the people he’s fucking.” He moseyed back into his office, oblivious to the carnage he just caused. Everyone stood around, shocked at the fact that Jim was apparently involved with both Dwight and Roy and rich.

 

“Wow oh wow,” said Kelly, basking in the drama. “I guess Jim  _ is  _ a whore, just like Angela said. A crazy whore with a dead dad.”

 

“Dang, I wonder if I have a shot with Jim, if we’re just passing him around,” leered Meredith. “You should go for it too Oscar!”

 

“But I thought Jim liked Pam,” questioned Kevin. “He’s dating Pam’s evil ex boyfriend? That’s cold Jim, that’s cold.”

 

Oscar moved back to his seat and Googled “Halpert”. Once he found a sufficient amount of information he rejoined the group in the center of the office. “I assume Jim’s dad didn’t really die. I looked up his last name and apparently there’s a really wealthy family in the area with that name. Larissa Chang was born into it. I’m assuming that’s Jim’s dad and the reason why he has so much money to spend on...you two.” The office erupted again at the developments in Jim’s personal life. A gay love triangle with your sworn enemy and your crush’s ex fiancée? Being born into a blue blood family? A possible mental breakdown? Everything was so weird yet exciting!

 

“Okay! First off fatass, I’m not evil,” fumed Roy at Kevin. “Second, shut the fuck up, all of you!” The entire office quieted down at Roy’s booming voice. “Shut up. Don’t mention a thing to Jim when he comes back, I’m serious. You hypocrites have done way worse than date around so leave him be. You’re a slut Meredith and he wouldn't come ten feet near you so stop dreaming. Kelly, you’re nuts so you’re one to talk about whether or not he’s “crazy”, which he’s not. Oscar, you noisy fuck. Just...stop. Don’t bother Jim outside of work and don’t bother him when he gets back. This conversation never happened and he doesn’t need to know about it. If I so much as get the feeling that he’s upset I’ll beat your faces in.” Roy walked back downstairs leaving Dwight to finish cleaning up their mess.

 

“Well, you heard Anderson,” said Dwight, feeling genuinely uncomfortable for the first time in his life. “Don’t mention this. As the assistant regional manager I will give demerits to anyone who gossips about this. So yeah….” Everyone ignored Dwight and continued to talk about Jim.

 

“I bet he left because he stole Pam’s man,” said Kelly. “I bet that was his intention the whole time. Pretend to be Pam’s friend and have a crush on her and boom! Take her guy! I never thought Jim would be so slick.”

 

“Uhhh, I’m right here, and I can hear you,” called Pam. “I broke up with Roy over the summer. If Jim wants to be involved with him then that’s his decision and I respect it. He’s my friend and I’d like it if you let him be.”

 

“Then why isn’t he here, Pam,” questioned Kevin. “Is it because he’s crazy?”

 

Pam looked to Dwight for help. He had none to give her. What a mess Michael had made. She sighed and pressed forward. “No, his dad really is sick. I don’t know why Dwight said he was dead but he isn’t. He had a heart attack and since he’s the only one of his siblings who lives locally Jim is helping his mother take care of him. He’ll be back the week after next; he isn’t quitting. He is stressed out though so I wouldn’t bring up the fact that everyone knows his business. You can understand why’d he’d want no one to know that he was getting close to Dwight and Roy.”

 

“Well, I want Jim to buy me things too, like pizza. Does he buy you things, Pam?”

 

“Don’t ask him to buy you stuff Kev. It’s very rude.” Kevin went and sat down at his desk, the rest of the office following suit. Dwight collapsed in his chair and leaned back as far as he could. Phyllis bumped the back of her chair against his. 

 

“You know this is your fault,” she whispered heatedly.

 

He did. He fucked up badly. 

 

Now he needed to decide whether or not he’d inform Jim of his fuck up.

 

* * *

 

Jim checked into the room his siblings had booked. He was the first to arrive and therefore had his pick of the rooms in the large suite. He put his bag down in the smallest room and jumped into the bed. The drive was only two hours but he felt insanely tired. He got under the sheets and dozed off. He woke up not long after to the sound of someone entering the suite. Jim padded out to see who it was.

 

“Jim,” screamed Larissa, throwing herself into Jim’s arms. He hugged his sister tightly, genuinely happy to see her. Growing up Larissa had been his best friend despite their ten year age difference. Even now Jim felt closer to her than he did his other siblings.

 

“Hey sis, how are you?” 

 

“I’m good! I’m a bit tired, but now that I’m done planing that gala I have more free time. I’m so happy to see you! How have you been, how’s everything at home?” Jim watched as Larissa watched him. He could see her studying his face, assessing if something were off. Jim didn’t want to lie to her, he saw no point in doing so. If he were honest then she’d see things from his perspective and help him. At least that’s what he hoped.

 

“I could be doing better,” he admitted. “There’s a lot going on. I hate it at home, they are beyond overbearing.” 

 

Larissa frowned. “I can tell. You look super tired Jim, when was the last time you’ve slept? And what’s going on at home? I know they’re bad but do you think you can weather it? I think after six months they’ll let you move out again.”

 

“I’m a grown man, I shouldn’t be held hostage at my parents’ house.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“They’re stalking me. I found out they’ve bugged my room and a car they gave me. They’ve also been threatening me since I decided I didn’t want to put up with their prying.”

 

Larissa looked conflicted, like she didn’t believe him.

 

“Why would they do that, Jim? It doesn’t make any sense.” Jim didn’t know how to explain it to Larissa without bringing up his trip to New York and what he found out. He didn’t want to broach the subject yet, not until Pete got there.

 

“They are, or were. I haven’t been home in a week. Can you please just believe me on this? I wouldn’t make it up. Doesn’t sound like something they’d do?” Larissa drew her lips into a thin line. Jim hoped she’d choose to believe him, although it didn’t seem likely going off of her facial expression.

 

“Maybe they have a reason then,  _ if  _ they are following you around. There would be a reason for it. ” 

 

Jim was highly disappointed in his sister but trained his face as best he could to not let it show. She was basically blaming him for his parents stalking him. He hadn’t even done anything wrong, at least not that he knew of. If this were a reaction to him leaving last year then they had no right; regardless of whether or not he got their “permission” to move away he was an adult who could make his own decisions, no matter how harsh. However Jim got the sense that his room had been bugged long before that, probably during high school. That wasn’t normal behavior, and it wasn’t justifiable. 

 

“Oh, alright,” he said instead, not wanting to argue with his sister.

 

“Is there anything else little bro? I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

 

“Recently I haven’t been feeling all that well, like mentally. I went to a psychiatrist just because and she thinks I have depression and BPD. So yeah, fun times here in Scranton!” 

 

“Holy shit Jim! Why didn’t you mention this before. How long have you known?”

 

“A little over a week.” Larissa looked sad at this but said nothing. “Yeah...do you mind if I go back to sleep? I’m tired from the drive over and I didn’t sleep well last night.”

 

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll wake you when Pete gets here. Is there anything you want me to get you Jim? You can come to me for anything you know.” Jim had the sinking feeling he couldn’t, not when she refused to believe him about their parents.

 

“I’m good. See you in a bit.” He retreated back into his hotel room.

 

* * *

 

When Pete arrived the three decided to change clothes and hit the ski slope. Jim hadn’t been skiing in years, he had never been a fan of it, and therefore was much more rusty at it than his siblings. They stood at the bottom of the slope, waiting for one of the lifts to come and collect them.

 

“Louis Vuitton, Jim? I thought you didn’t like flashy stuff,” Pete joked, ruffling his hair through the hat. Pete and Jim had always been cool but Pete had never been affectionate with Jim growing up. Jim barely even knew him until he was a teenager, Pete had been out of the house before Jim had started preschool. However he had been extremely touchy feely with Jim since he had arrived. He assumed Larissa told him about his illnesses and this was Pete’s way of comforting him. Jim didn’t like it.

 

“I bought gear from the first store I saw. I was in New York the other day.”

 

“What? You were in New York and didn’t come to see me,” questioned Larissa. “I’m so hurt Jim,” she joked. 

 

“You seemed busy and I knew I’d see you today. Besides I went to visit friends. Didn’t have a lot of free time.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that at least. I’m glad you’re not sitting around bored all day!”

 

“Yeah, yeah….” The three moseyed around, waiting in the long queue to ride the lift. When they got close to the front Jim felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder. He looked back and saw Tom, his other brother, smirking at him.

 

“Jamie, how nice to see you,” he said sarcastically. Jim looked to his other siblings for help. Both had promised that Tom wouldn’t come and yet here he was. Larissa and Pete gave him sheepish looks in return; neither expected him to be there either.

 

“Hey, we weren’t expecting you,” Jim said in reply. Tom tightened his grip on Jim’s shoulder, looking to hurt him. Jim rolled his eyes. Tom didn’t like him but he didn’t have to be petty. He shrugged Tom’s hand off of his shoulder. 

 

“What? I can’t have a little fun with my family?”

 

“I just figured you wouldn’t show up is all.”

 

“I was free this weekend and decided to come. So sue me.”

 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Jim grouched. 

 

“Did you book a separate room,” asked Larissa. “You could have stayed with us if we knew you were coming.” 

 

“Oh no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to get in princess’ way here in case he threw a tantrum,” Tom replied. “How long have you guys been here?”

 

Jim mentally checked out while his siblings talked. He didn’t expect Tom to be here and it was starting to make him nervous about talking to Larissa and Pete later. He didn’t want Tom knowing about his problems. He was a full blown dick and wouldn’t let Jim live it down that he had mental health issues. He had always hated Jim for whatever reason, and that was the type of info he’d use to make Jim’s life even more of a living hell. He hoped Pete and Larissa were astute enough to know he didn’t want them mentioning it to Tom.

 

“Okay, so I’ll go up with Jim, and you two’ll go up together,” Larissa said. “Is that okay with you Jim?”

 

“Huh,” he said, not paying attention. Pete and Larissa regarded him sadly.

 

“Do you want to ride up with me or Pete? Are you alright? You spaced out there for a bit.”

 

“Sorry, I can ride up with you. I wasn’t listening, I didn’t want to listen to Tom talk. You know how it is.” Larissa snorted at this. When it was their turn to get on the ski lift Jim sat down first before making room for Larissa. Unfortunately Tom squeezed past their sister in order to sit next to Jim. 

 

“Are you serious,” Jim asked incredulously.  He couldn’t leave the lift as it began moving from the platform; he now had to suffer through a ten minute lift ride with his least favorite sibling. Jesus. “What was the point in doing that?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you, is that such a crime?”

 

Jim sighed, resigned to his fate. “About what?”

 

“How’s life treating you, dork? I know nothing panned out the way you wanted. Such a tragedy, such is life.”

 

“Yeah, I guess. How are you?”

 

“I’m great! I won a high profile case recently, a divorce between an Eagles tight end and his wife. She’ll end up owing him money.”

 

“That’s so shitty Tom, are you actually taking pride in that?”

 

“Yeah, I am. You wouldn’t understand since you’re so accustomed to losing. Winning is such a magical feeling.”

 

“Ah, I see. This “talk” is little more than an attempt to put me down, got it.”

 

“You only feel that way because you know you’re a loser. You’re a whiny, sore loser on top of that.”

 

Jim huffed and shifted uncomfortably away from Tom. It was sad to think his brother despised him so much that he traveled all the way from Philly just to torment him. He’d ski away from Tom when they got to the top of the summit. It’d be fine.

 

“Do you watch YouTube,” Tom asked Jim, fiddling with the phone in his hands.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Have you heard of Jonah Khan? He’s pretty popular these days.”

 

“We went to high school together…why?”

 

Tom stuck his phone under Jim’s nose. “I saw this a couple of days ago, I thought you might be interested in it.” Tom hit play on a video titled  _ My 1st Love. _ Jim rolled his eyes preemptively; the could feel the cringe just based on the title. He watched as Jonah cried over his lost love from high school. The boy’s parents forced a breakup between them. It sadly made sense, Jim wouldn’t say Scranton was the most gay friendly place around. Still, Jim was a bit disturbed. This would have happened more than eight years ago, wasn’t it time to move on? No high school relationship was serious. But he was a YouTuber and their whole shtick was to overblow basic events; none of this probably even happened.

 

“Okay? Why are you showing me this,” Jim asked. Tom bore a malicious smirk that made Jim wonder if it were Tom with the issues and not himself. 

 

“You don’t get it do you? He’s talking about  _ you _ ,” Tom cackled. Jim rolled his eyes; yeah, Tom was crazy. It must have run in their family.

 

“Okay,” he replied, choosing to ignore Tom’s insanity. He leaned back and his seat and looked the opposite direction, trying to avoid Tom’s burning gaze.

 

“Aren’t you a bit curious as to why you cannot remember this?”

 

“I don’t remember this because it never happened, Tom. Maybe he  _ thinks  _ he dated me but he didn’t. I didn’t date anyone in high school.”

 

“You did. I have pictures of the two of you on cheesy teenager dates. Then mom and dad made you break up because you wanted to follow him to New York after graduation. They thought you’d make a break for it. It’s crazy that you can’t remember this, I wonder why…” Tom moved to the pictures app on his phone and pulled up a picture of Jim and Jonah at an Applebee’s. They were sitting across from one another and were cradling each other’s hands on the table. They looked happy and in love. Jim felt sick.

 

“When was this?!”

 

“The summer before your senior year I think. You even went to homecoming together. Then suddenly you weren’t together anymore. It’s for the best, he became successful and you a failure. You probably would have dragged the poor kid down had you stayed together. Oh well.”

 

Jim tried to remember any of this happening. He couldn’t. It was making him sick not knowing whether Tom was fucking with him or if this actually happened and he couldn’t remember for some sinister reason. He wanted to lean towards the former; where did Tom even get that picture? He didn’t have any interest in Jim’s life growing up so it wasn’t likely that he took it.  _ It’s probably Photoshopped  _ he thought. “Where’d you get that picture from?”

 

“You had someone else take it before sending it to Larissa. Larissa sent to me, and I found it in my Cloud when looking through old pictures. You really don’t remember, huh? Our parents always coddled you too much.” 

 

“What do you mean?” The two approached the top of the mountain where Tom disembarked. 

 

“It’s not my place to say although I’m sure genius Jimmy can figure it out for himself.” 

Jim stayed on the ski lift, not bothering to get off. He felt deeply unsettled, a feeling he was growing more accustomed to over the week. He feared he already figured it out, if what Tom was saying were genuinely true. He didn’t feel like skiing anymore, not that he ever did. Instead he rode the ski life back to the bottom of the mountain and hid out in his room.

 

He’d get his answers the moment his siblings came back.

 

* * *

 

Naturally Larissa came back first, being the most upset and worried about Jim after his disappearing act. She tried opening the door to Jim’s private room but found it locked. She knocked on it instead. “Jim, why didn’t you say out with us? The whole point of coming was to hang out together!”

“I didn’t feel like it, okay,” came Jim’s muffled voice through the door. She sighed and slid down the door to sit.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Yeah, but later. Are we having dinner anytime soon?”

 

“We can! Are you hungry? There’s a private dining room we can reserve then it’d be just us.” Jim’s stomach was in knots. He wasn’t sure if it were from his lack of eating, an actual sign of hunger, or nerves for what was to come.

 

“Yeah, I am hungry. I think a private dining room would be great.”

 

“Can I come in at least? It’s awkward talking to you through the door.” Jim got up and opened the door for his sister. She followed him in and looked around the room. It was a bit messy from Jim discarding his ski gear everywhere so she began picking up after him. Jim did his part by getting back underneath the sheets. Larissa sat at the edge of the bed once she was done depositing Jim’s clothes into his duffle bag. “What’s wrong,” she finally asked.

 

“Nothing really, I just weighed my options and decided I’d rather not spend my day with Thomas. It’d just piss me off, and apparently I don’t have any control over my emotions so I’d probably fly off the handle,” Jim said jovially. Larissa gave him a tight smile in reply. 

 

“I’m sorry Tom came.”

 

“Don’t be, he  _ was  _ invited.”

 

“Yeah, but I probably shouldn’t have considering I only did this so I could hang out with you.” 

 

Jim shifted his body so that his head laid on top of Larissa’s lap. She began petting his hair in response. “I feel so loved,” he said jokingly.

 

“You told me about all of the bad that’s happening, please tell me you have something good going on at least.”

 

Jim got up and grabbed his phone before settling back onto Larissa’s lap. He scrolled to the social media profiles of Dwight and Roy before showing his sister pictures of them both. “This is Roy. He works in the warehouse at Dunder Mifflin. And this is Dwight. I’ve told you about him before.”

 

“They’re your friends,” Larissa asked smiling.

 

“Yeah. I guess. In actuality I’m dating with both of them.” Larissa’s face paled at this. 

 

“You’re dating two of your coworkers Jim? Why would you do that?”

 

“They showed interest in me first. It’s not all great, but it’s something to do? At least I’m not bored all of the time.”

 

“What made you want to date both of them if you don’t mind me asking.” 

 

“Well Roy was my friend before this, the only one I had after I moved back home, and he kind of cornered me and asked. And then the next day Dwight overhead us talking and asked that I give him a chance too. Then they both wanted the exact same number of dates and stuff so we made some contract thingie that I’d go on like ten dates with each of them, but then we changed it to five, and then we just canceled it. So yeah, that’s that….”

 

Larissa tried following what Jim said. “You contracted yourself out for dates with two different men? I still don’t understand why you’d do that.”

 

“You make it sound like I’m selling my body. They both wanted to date me and I guess I’m just lonely enough to go along with it. It’s been forever since I’ve tried dating and I like them both well enough to give them a shot. I’m going to pick one to date later and hopefully can just be friends with the other.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be a bit awkward though? You work with both of them so you’d have to see them everyday. Wouldn’t that be stressful?”

 

“Oh, it’s fine. I plan on quitting that job as soon as I get back,” Jim said nonchalantly.  “I hate it there and have been thinking about it for a while. I’ll try to see if I can get a teaching job in Scranton or the surrounding area but if not then I’ll just work elsewhere. Somewhere less stressful, with a less annoying boss and no creepy stalkers.”

 

“Whoa, someone’s stalking you at work now too?”

 

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t believe me,” Jim said bitterly. Larissa gently stroked his head, trying to relax him. 

 

“No, I’ll believe you. Tell me, I’m worried about you.” Jim looked up at her skeptical but continued talking.

 

“Well first there’s Roy. Then remember how I told you about the documentary crew that was filming at my job? They’re following me.”

 

“Isn’t that their job?”

 

“At work it is, but they follow me outside of work too. When I transferred to Connecticut they followed me there even though they are there to film Michael’s antics. When I went on a date with Dwight they were there too. It’s not like we told them where we were going, they just did it. I get the feeling they follow me around other times too but I can’t prove it. I think...I think them following me has something to do with mom and dad following me.”

 

“What about Roy,” Larissa asked. She didn’t want to address what Jim said about the documentary crew, his rambling came off as him being paranoid. It was making her sad that she never knew Jim was struggling this hard. If Jim noticed her changing the subject then he didn’t mention anything.

 

“He’s a stalker creep too, he’s admitted that much. He’d follow me around and ask his ex all sorts of questions about me. He even watched me from the wooded area behind our house once. He told me he’s been in love with me for a really long time. It’s weird but I like him? I dunno, I probably shouldn’t.”

 

“You absolutely shouldn’t, are you serious Jim?” Jim did have an actual stalker and instead of being afraid of him he decided to date him. Larissa was growing more and more concerned about him. She and Pete needed to discuss his behavior; they may need to drop in more frequently to check on him. “Jim, you aren’t really considering dating a man with a unhealthy obsession with you? Where is he learning this stuff? Why is his ex talking about him with you? I can have him looked into for you, he sounds dangerous!”

 

“He’s fine,” Jim said dismissively. “He’s a freak but he won’t hurt me. He said he loved me, and I like him too. I’m working on trusting him and he said he’d never follow me again so I think everything would be okay if I decided to date him. As for how he learned stuff about me, I don’t know really. He said from my social media accounts but it could have been anything with him. He was in the military, that’s the type of stuff they learn there, right? His ex is Pam by the way, I’ve mentioned her to you before. They were engaged for a while.”

 

“You mean the girl you had a crush on,” Larissa asked dubiously. “And then Roy must be her “jackass fiancé” you hated. And now you’re dating her ex, and the other guy you hated….okay?” It didn’t make sense to Larissa, but if it made sense to Jim then it was okay she guessed. “Who do you like more? Dwight or Roy?”

 

“I like them both, I wouldn’t mind dating either of them. They’re both nice. At least to me they are,” Jim said with a smile. “You know, a month ago I don’t think I would have considered dating another guy. But it’s pretty great. I just feel bad for dragging them down with me.”

 

“How so?”

 

“The last time I slept with both of them bad things happened. I dunno, I like them both but I don’t think I’m stable enough to be dating anyone right now.” Larissa skyrocketed upwards causing Jim to tumble off of her lap and almost fall on the floor. “Are you alright?”

 

“You had sex with them?” Jim couldn’t understand why Larissa was so shocked by that. Was it wrong that he slept with them? Maybe, but it wasn’t like Roy and Dwight didn’t know about each other. Neither minded so long as they were getting what the other got.

 

“They...know about each other? It was safe sex too, if that’s what you’re worried about….” Larissa sat down next to Jim, determined eyes boring into his. 

 

“What bad things happened Jim, tell me!” Jim felt perturbed by his sister’s change from passive listener to actively prying. He didn’t know what he said to set her off.

 

“Uhm? I slept with Dwight once. He came over because he promised he’d watch a show with me and we ended up having sex. Dad barged in and threatened him afterwards, like he waited until after we were finished to say something. That’s how we found the cameras in my room and car, Dwight bought me one of those spycam finder thingies and it just pinged all over my room. Mom and dad didn’t even pretend that they weren’t spying on me, there was an intercom in my car and everything. She tried talking me into staying and made the car not turn on. I had a mini breakdown too, it was just so awkward, it wasn’t even my first time breaking down in front of him. I wonder why he even likes me.

 

“I slept with Roy like one point five times? The second time I bit him on the neck. It wasn’t in a sexual sense either, I just did it. The scary part is I don’t remember biting him. We were having sex one second and the next I see teeth marks on his neck. I...I dunno. I don’t know why I did it. Or maybe I do, I dunno. He should hate me too, I might have given him an infection. I’m not sure yet, it happened yesterday. I tried cleaning it at least? He said it was cool, so did Dwight. But they always say it’s cool, whenever I do something erratic. How is it possible to like someone so much that you’d ignore their instability? I can’t possibly be worth it?”

 

Jim watched Larissa. Her face was purposely blank, giving away no emotion. It was strange to see, his siblings were similar to him in the sense that all of their feelings, emotions, and thoughts were painted in their faces. They were expressive creatures by nature, it was in their blood. If she had no reaction then it was because she was doing it on purpose. He wondered if she knew something he didn’t. It seemed like everyone knew something about him that he didn’t.

 

“Well, I think you’re worth it Jim, don’t talk about yourself that way.”

 

“Aww, you’re sweet. But seriously, if I attacked you during sex wouldn’t you want to get rid of me? That’s a lot to deal with from someone you’re barely dating.”

 

“It’s probably just stress Jim. Even if it isn’t they know you’re having a tough time right now, it’d be grimy of them to run away if they got this far.”

 

Jim wanted to tell his sister about his dreams and how he thought they tied into him biting Roy. He wanted to tell her everything he knew, from the paintings, to the dreams, to meeting Dr. Hanson. But it wasn’t beneficial for him to do it now, not when Pete wasn’t here. He’d do it at dinner. Instead he said, “Yeah, I guess. Roy thinks it’s stress too. We’re going to Disney World on Monday. He thinks that would be more beneficial for my psyche than staying in Scranton. I can’t wait, I’ve always wanted to go but never did. It’d be kind of weird if an adult went by himself you know?”

 

Larissa looked troubled but kept her thoughts to herself. She didn’t think Jim going anywhere with Roy alone was a smart decision, much less out of state. It bothered her a lot but she had to admit, Jim was stressed. She could see it on his face. She didn’t want to ruin something he was excited for because she got the feeling it was that didn’t happen often, not anyone. “Can I check in on you then? Like, you should call me while there, just so I know you’re safe.”

 

“Uhh sure,” replied Jim. “I doubt Roy is planning on killing me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ll be okay. Hey, if possible, can you not invite Tom to dinner? I would rather not deal with him anymore. He said some weird shit on the slope earlier.”

 

“Yeah, okay. I won’t. I’m gonna go book the dining room, hopefully we can eat within the hour. And don’t worry about whatever Tom said. I don’t know why he likes messing with you. I’m really sorry he came today.” 

 

Jim wished he could put what Tom said out of his head. Maybe three days ago he would have been able to. But after what he learned from Dr. Hanson it seemed entirely plausible that he “forgot” about his high school boyfriend. “I’ll try,” he told his sister. She ruffled his hair before getting up to leave.

 

Once she was gone got up and checked their suite for a printer. When he found one he smiled to himself. Everything was falling into place, and soon he’d have the answers he craved.

 

* * *

 

Jim walked into the large private dining room an hour later with a folder in hand. He was met with the sight of Larissa and Pete pacing awkwardly around the long dinner room table while Tom sat draining a glass of red wine. Jim stopped. Hadn’t he just asked Larissa to  _ not  _ invite Tom? What the hell?

 

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Pete said walking over to Jim. “I invited him before Larissa said not to. It’s a bit awkward now, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, it is. Can’t you uninvite him?”

 

“I have every right to hang out with my family too, Jim,” Tom said darkly. “But it’s so like you to want a monopoly on everyone’s attention.”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a miserable person you could hang out with us, Tommy.” 

 

“You’re quite miserable yourself brat, you shouldn’t try talking down to others.”

 

“Oh wow, the pot’s calling the kettle “black”. Fuck off man. You ruined what could have been a good time by showing up unannounced. You’re such a hateful asshole.”

 

“No,  _ you _ ruined a good time you fucking flop. “Boohoo, Tom said something something I didn’t like! Now I’m gonna run to my room like the spoiled bitch I am! And I’m gonna make Larissa look for my petulant ass!” You managed to make our get together all about yourself. I’m even barred from seeing my family because of you.”

 

“Don’t push this on me!  _ You’re  _ the one who irrationally hates  _ me _ ! I’ve never been anything but nice to you. Why should I have to put up with your abuse?!”

 

“Shut up,” Larissa screamed at both of them. “Just shut the hell up and sit down. Tommy, just stop trying to aggravate Jim. Jim, stop being easy to aggravate!”

 

Jim felt his temper flare up. He was being blamed for Tom’s behavior, and why? He not back a retort and walked to the end of the table where Larissa stood; it was conveniently on the opposite end from where a drunk and belligerent Tom sat.

 

“I want to sit here,” was all Jim said before pulling out his chair. Larissa followed suit leaving Pete standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure whether to join the pair and ostracize Tom or to sit with him and deal with an angry Jim throughout dinner. Resigned to his fate either way Pete picked a seat in the middle of the table, an equal distance away from both Tom and Jim. Jim narrowed his eyes at his bumbling brother. “Pete, I have something I want to talk to you about. Can’t you sit down here?”

 

“Can you tell me later? I...I like it right here?”

 

“It needs to be now,” Jim said calmly, trying to keep his voice leveled. Tom snorted from his end of the table before grabbing his bottle of wine and moving to sit beside Jim. Jim tried not to let his irritation showed; it was what Tom wanted. At a loss for what to do Pete finally moved to sit with the rest of his family.

 

“Do I get to know too, Jamie? Or is this why you didn’t want to invite me to dinner,” Tom asked in a faux sad voice. Jim turned his back on Tom and slipped the folder in his hands to Pete.

 

“What are those,” asked Larissa.

 

“Paintings,” Jim responded easily.

 

“Oh, you’ve made new art? I want to see too!” In her haste to grab the folder Larissa missed the grim look on Pete’s face. She looked at the folder and gasped.

 

It was laminated copies of the disturbing paintings Jim had found. Jim stared at his siblings with a bored look, with they returned with horrified looks of their own.

 

“You told me you were going to destroy these, Jim. Did you want to shove these back down my throat? That’s fucking cruel!”

 

“I’m sorry Larissa,” Jim said quietly. “I will, I promise. It’s just that I was so worried about you after seeing these. Mom said your friend died and I was curious as to when this happened. After high school, right? That was probably so stressful, wasn’t it?”

 

Larissa stared down at the pictures, unsure how to respond. She looked at Pete who was equally as confused as she was. Why was Jim bringing up these pictures again? Nothing good would come of it. She wondered if this was what he wanted to talk about all day, these pictures. She saw Tom flipping through the folder from the corner of her eye, a small smile toying at his lips. Absolutely nothing good would come from these pictures.

 

“My friend died and I was super depressed. I tried painting as an outlet for my negative emotions. Once I got better I stopped. And somehow mom and dad kept these and they got mixed in with your drawings. I’ll go back home and take them off of your hands if you want.”

 

“How’d they die,” Jim asked bluntly. Larissa stared at him, feeling put out.

 

“That’s a really painful question for me, Jim. I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“You can’t talk about it after fifteen or so years? You must not be over it. Have you thought about therapy?”

 

“This is awkward, Jim,” Pete said uncomfortably. “Let’s drop it.”

 

“But I want to know! It can’t be  _ that  _ painful, it’s been years Larissa. How did they did? Were you there when they died? Is that why you don’t want to talk about it?”

 

Larissa gritted her teeth. “Shut up, Jim. You’re getting on my last nerve right now.”

 

Jim sat quiet for all of two minutes before he badgered again. “Was it a car accident? You must have been in the car. But I would have remembered you being injured or something like that. Did you have no injuries? I bet that’s why this is such a touchy subject, you escaped while while your friend was horribly mangled and died. Was it cancer? They must have suffered a lot if you can’t even talk about it. Or was it drugs? Having to watch your friend waste away to addiction like that. I bet you--.”

 

“It was a car accident. She died in a car accident,” Larissa bit out. “Are you fucking happy, Jim? You’re definitely killing the vibe.”

 

“I’m not happy,” Jim said sadly. “Because you’re lying to me. You said last time your boyfriend dumped you and that’s why you painted these. Which is it?”

 

Larissa gasped, she’d forgotten she’d told Jim that the pictures were a reaction to an ex boyfriend breaking up with her. “It was both, he broke up with me because I was so distraught over my friend dying. He was such an asshole, I know that now. But at that time I thought it was all my fault and the whole ordeal just left me so sad.”

 

“Oh my god, you are such a liar,” Jim deadpanned. “Pete, who painted these?”

 

“Larissa did.”

 

“Tell the truth,” Jim implored. Pete wouldn’t meet his eyes.

 

“I’m telling the truth. It was Larissa.”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

“Maybe we should cancel dinner, Jim. You seem a bit...off,” said Larissa softly. “Let’s go back to the room?”

 

Jim ignored her and turned his attention to Tom. Tom hated him so much that he had no reason to lie to him, not about anything negative. He’d relish in Jim’s misery. “Tom. Who painted these?”

 

“You did, doorknob. Who else but you?’

 

“Thanks, Tom. I figured I painted them. You guys have been so shady about me asking about them. If you didn’t want me to know then you should have done a better job of keeping your stories straight.”

 

“Okay, you painted them,” Larissa said tiredly. “What do you want now?”

 

“Why don’t I remember painting them?”

 

“You were a child,” Pete piped up. “It’s impossible for someone to remember their entire childhood. Do you remember painting most of your stuff? I bet you couldn’t?”

 

“Then why lie about it? Why not just say that in the beginning?” Neither Pete nor Larissa had an answer for him. Jim snatched the folder back from Tom and rifled through the pages until he got to a head shot. He held the picture up for everyone to see. “Do you know who this is,” he asked.

 

“No,” Pete said genuinely. “Who is she?”

 

“Doctor Jessica Hanson. Does that name ring a bell?” 

 

The room went dead silent. No one moved or said anything. Even Tom was painfully quiet, his eyes wide and unflinching. No one wanted to say anything so Jim pushed forward.

 

“I found her card in the box containing the painting. For the split second that I believed Larissa’s story I thought she was your psychologist during your breakdown. I went to visit her in New York the day before yesterday and I asked her some questions. Apparently she did work for our family before, but not for Larissa. She was  _ my _ therapist. Do you know what she told me?”

 

No one said anything.

 

“She said she had to hypnotize me to forget things. The same things that made me make these paintings.”

 

“That’s fucking retarded Jim and you know it,” said Tom. “You painted those because you were a little freak growing up and liked being creepy.”

 

“She’s crazy,” mumbled Larissa. “Mom hired her because she was worried that you were growing anti social, but ended up firing her when she was caught stealing from our house.”

 

“If I called mom right now would she be able to collaborate that story,” Jim said. “She probably wouldn’t because it’s a lie. I’d appreciate if you didn’t question my intelligence like that. Besides, it makes sense. I can’t remember making these paintings and the timeframe she was my therapist overlapped with me making these. She said she had to do touch ups sometimes. I believe her. Because earlier today Tom brought up that I dated some guy in high school, but I don’t remember that. That’s what she touched up isn’t it? She made me forget about my high school boyfriend?”   
  


“I never said any of this,” Tom lied. He looked extremely nervous, like he was hinting at this but hoped Jim wouldn’t pick up on. Pete and Larissa gave Tom disgusted, upset glares, and it was more than enough confirmation for Jim that what Tom said earlier was true.

 

“You did! Show them the picture, Tom.” 

 

Tom refused to move so Jim leaned over him to grab his cell phone from out of his pocket. Tom grabbed his wrists and slammed him into the table. Jim in turned kneed Tom in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He quickly reached into Tom’s pocket and grabbed his phone before backing away from the table.

 

“Give me my phone back you little shit,” Tom screamed. Jim had no way of actually accessing the photo, Tom’s phone was locked. He tried entering Tom’s birthday and other random codes but the phone kept going back to an old photo of Tom and some woman. No matter.

 

“You were so giddy to show me this earlier, and now you don’t want anyone to know about it. Why are you all lying to me?”

 

“Just leave it, it’s for your own good,” Pete stated. He moved away from the table and stood by the fireplace in the far corner of the dining room. Larissa refused to look at Jim and instead focused on the empty plate in front of her. Jim couldn’t see her eyes from where he stood but he could tell she were crying. Jim sighed and tossed Tom his phone back. Something was wrong with him, and all his siblings knew it. No one wanted to tell him what was up.

 

“What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t be the only one who doesn’t know something about me. Is this the reason why mom and dad treat me the way they do?”

 

The only response he got was Larissa’s sniffles.

 

“Why are you crying,” Jim asked. “Is it that bad? You wouldn’t cry if it weren’t a big deal. I deserve to know!”

 

“Fuck off you nuisance,” Tom said. “You know it’s not good so why do you want us to suffer and tell you?”

 

“I want to know. I keep having dreams about it. I see myself with this man...I see myself afraid of him. I fear this person but I can’t see his face. I can’t remember his name. I don’t know exactly what he did, just that he did  _ something.  _ But you guys know. You know what happened to me and you’re omitting information from me. How could you possibly suffer any more than me? This is my life and I don’t know it. It’s literally driving me insane! It isn’t fair.”

 

“A lot of things in life aren’t fair Jim. Just...accept it,” whispered Larissa. “We don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt you.”

 

“I’m being hurt by your silence, can’t you see that? I already know so much about what happened, can’t you just fill in the rest?”

 

“Sure, I’ll fill in the rest for you,” said Tom snidely. “Since you’re so desperate to know.” Larissa stood and advanced on Tom, intent on silencing him. Jim intercepted her and held her at his chest, rendering her immobile.

 

“Say it, Tom, say it!”

 

“You’re remembering the time you were dumb enough to allow yourself to be kidnapped. One of dad’s old colleagues was upset with him and wanted revenge. So he followed you for a bit and found the right moment to strike. You walked off with him like a retard and it took us over a month to find you. We thought we’d find you dead, but it was worse. He had been fucking you and beating you almost daily. And of course you came back fucked up in the head. No one wanted to deal with that so mom and dad hired some voodoo doctor that made you forget it ever happened. But since you’re a nosy fuck you know everything now, aren’t you so happy?”

 

Jim dropped Larissa where she stood. A strange silence enveloped the room. It was stifling and soul crushing. None of the four siblings wanted to say anything lest the use the air that was rapidly leaving the room. Jim felt so dizzy that the room began to spin. He had to tilt his head up just to force air into his lungs and steady his hazy mind.

 

Did he believe Tom? He had no reason not to. Pete and Larissa hadn’t countered him either. Neither wanted to look at him. It wasn’t hard to use that information to fill in the gaps in his dreams. It lined up with the bits and pieces that he remembered.

 

It made sense.

 

Jim kept his head upturned towards the ceiling, trying to hold back his tears.

 

“So now you know,” said Tom.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“Does it make you feel any less miserable than you already are,” he asked. Jim didn’t dignify Tom with a response.

 

The large room remained quiet except for the occasional hiccup from Larissa who hadn’t stopped crying. It was pissing Jim off; why was  _ she  _ crying? He was the one who apparently had the shitty life from onset. He held his tongue and said nothing about it however, he also found it a tad bit nice that she at least empathized with him. It was much better than Pete who stood silent by the fireplace, or Tom who Jim could tell must have felt insanely smug about knocking him down a peg. Jim thought to retire for the night, or even to drive back to Dwight’s place, when the a knock startled him out of his thoughts. The door to the grandiose dining room opened to reveal a waitress pushing a cart into the room.  _ Right, this was supposed to be dinner  _ Jim thought duly. He supposed he ruined everyone’s appetites. However he felt the hungriest he had felt in months, and he didn’t care to investigate why that was. Instead he sat back at the table and allowed the waitress to serve him.

 

“What are you doing,” Larissa asked from her spot on the floor. 

 

“I’m eating. I think you should join me. Come, let’s eat together like a  _ good  _ family would.” 

 

Larissa, Pete, and Tom all joined him at the table, apprehensively awaiting Jim’s next move.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has taken so long. I've had some big life changes recently that made it hard to update. But have no fear, I haven't given up on any of my stories. In fact, WHATTITW should be finished before the end of the summer. That said, it felt good to have Jim finally figure out what's up with him and why his family is so shady. They were just trying to protect him. The means to an end wasn't the best though, and probably fucked him up even worse. We'll see what happened in future chapters, but now we have to deal with the fallout.


End file.
